THE PUPPET CROWN

by Harold MacGrath

 TO THE MEMORY OF THAT GOOD FRIEND AND COMRADE OF MY YOUTH MY FATHER

CONTENTS

 I. THE SCEPTER WHICH WAS A STICK II. THE COUP D'ETAT OF COUSIN JOSEF III. AN EPISODE TEN YEARS AFTER IV. AN ADVENTURE WITH ROYALTY V. BEHIND THE PUPPET BOOTH VI. MADEMOISELLE OF THE VEIL VII. SOME DIALOGUE, AN SPRAINED ANKLE, AND SOME SOLDIERS VIII. THE RED CHATEAU IX. NOTHING MORE SERIOUS THAN A HOUSE PARTY X. BEING OF LONG RIDES, MAIDS, KISSES AND MESSAGES XI. THE DENOUEMENT XII. WHOM THE GODS DESTROY AND A FEW OTHERS XIII. BEING OF COMPLICATIONS NOT RECKONED ON XIV. QUI M'AIME, AIME MON CHIEN XV. IN WHICH FORTUNE BECOMES CARELESS AND PRODIGAL XVI. WHAT HAPPENED AT THE ARCHBISHOP'S PLACE AND AFTER XVII. SOME PASSAGES AT ARMS XVIII. A MINOR CHORD AND A CHANGE OF MOVEMENT XIX. A CHANCE RIDE IN THE NIGHT XX. THE LAST STAND OF A BAD SERVANT XXI. A COURT FETE AT THE RED CHATEAU XXII. IN WHICH MAURICE RECURS TO OFFENBACH XXIII. A GAME OF POKER AND THE STAKES XXIV. THE PRISONER OF THE RED CHATEAU XXV. THE FORTUNES OF WAR XXVI. A PAGE FORM TASSO XXVII. WORMWOOD AND LEESXXVIII. INTO THE HANDS OF AUSTRIA XXIX. INTO STILL WATERS AND SILENCE

 Ah Love! Could you and I with Him conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire Would not we shatter it to bits--and then Re-mold it nearer to the Heart's desire!

 --Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

CHAPTER I. THE SCEPTER WHICH WAS A STICK

The king sat in his private garden in the shade of a potted orange tree, the leaves of which were splashed with brilliant yellow. It was highnoon of one of those last warm sighs of passing summer which now andthen lovingly steal in between the chill breaths of September. Thevelvet hush of the mid-day hour had fallen. 

There was an endless horizon of turquoise blue, a zenith pellucid asglass. The trees stood motionless; not a shadow stirred, save that whichwas cast by the tremulous wings of a black and purple butterfly, which, near to his Majesty, fell, rose and sank again. From a drove of wildbees, swimming hither and thither in quest of the final sweets of theyear, came a low murmurous hum, such as a man sometimes fancies he hearswhile standing alone in the vast auditorium of a cathedral. 

The king, from where he sat, could see the ivy-clad towers of thearchbishop's palace, where, in and about the narrow windows, gray andwhite doves fluttered and plumed themselves. The garden sloped gentlydownward till it merged into a beautiful lake called the Werter See, which, stretching out several miles to the west, in the heart of thethick-wooded hills, trembled like a thin sheet of silver. 

Toward the south, far away, lay the dim, uneven blue line of the ThalianAlps, which separated the kingdom that was from the duchy that is, andthe duke from his desires. More than once the king leveled his gazein that direction, as if to fathom what lay behind those lordly ruggedhills. 

There was in the air the delicate odor of the deciduous leaves which, every little while, the king inhaled, his eyes half-closed and hisnostrils distended. Save for these brief moments, however, there restedon his countenance an expression of disenchantment which came ofthe knowledge of a part ill-played, an expression which described aconsciousness of his unfitness and inutility, of lethargy and wearinessand distaste. 

To be weary is the lot of kings, it is a part of their royalprerogative; but it is only a great king who can be weary gracefully. And Leopold was not a great king; indeed, he was many inches short ofthe ideal; but he was philosophical, and by the process of reason heescaped the pitfalls which lurk in the path of peevishness. 

To know the smallness of the human atom, the limit of desire, theexistence of other lives as precious as their own, is not the philosophywhich makes great kings. Philosophy engenders pity; and one whopossesses that can not ride roughshod over men, and that is the businessof kings. 

As for Leopold, he would rather have wandered the byways of Kant thanstudied royal etiquette. A crown had been thrust on his head and ascepter into his hand, and, willy-nilly, he must wear the one and wieldthe other. The confederation had determined the matter shortly beforethe Franco-Prussian war. 

The kingdom that was, an admixture of old France and newer Austria, wasa gateway which opened the road to the Orient, and a gateman must beplaced there who would be obedient to the will of the great travelers, were they minded to pass that way. That is to say, the confederationwanted a puppet, and in Leopold they found a dreamer, which served aswell. That glittering bait, a crown, had lured him from his peacefulOsian hills and valleys, and now he found that his crown was of strawand his scepter a stick. 

He longed to turn back, for his heart lay in a tomb close to his castlekeep, but the way back was closed. He had sold his birthright. So hepermitted his ministers to rule his kingdom how they would, and gavehimself up to dreams. He had been but a cousin of the late king, whereasthe duke of the duchy that is had been a brother. But cousin Josefwas possessed of red hair and a temper which was redder still, and, moreover, a superlative will, bending to none, and laughing at those whotried to bend him. 

He would have been a king to the tip of his fiery hair; and it was forthis very reason that his subsequent appeals for justice and his rightsfell on unheeding ears. The confederation feared Josef; therefore theydispossessed him. Thus Leopold sat on the throne, while his Highness bithis nails and swore, impotent to all appearances. 

Leopold leaned forward from his seat. In his hand he held a riding stickwith which he drew shapeless pictures in the yellow gravel of the path. His brows were drawn over contemplative eyes, and the hint of a soursmile lifted the corners of his lips. Presently the brows relaxed, andhis gaze traveled to the opposite side of the path, where the Britishminister sat in the full glare of the sun. 

In the middle of the path, as rigid as a block of white marble, reposeda young bulldog, his moist black nose quivering under the repeatedattacks of a persistent insect. It occurred to the king that there wasa resemblance between the dog and his master, the Englishman. The sameheavy jaws were there, the same fearless eyes, the same indomitablecourage for the prosecution of a purpose. 

A momentary regret passed through him that he had not been turned froma like mold. Next his gaze shifted to the end of the path, where ayoung Lieutenant stood idly kicking pebbles, his cuirass flaming in thedazzling sunshine. Soon the drawing in the gravel was resumed. 

The British minister made little of the three-score years which wereclosing in on him, after the manner of an army besieging a citadel. Hewas full of animal exuberance, and his eyes, a trifle faded, it mustbe admitted, were still keenly alive and observant. He was big ofbone, florid of skin, and his hair--what remained of it--was wiry andbleached. His clothes, possibly cut from an old measure, hung looselyabout the girth--a sign that time had taken its tithe. For thirty-fiveyears he had served his country by cunning speeches and bursts of fineoratory; he had wandered over the globe, lulling suspicions here andarousing them there, a prince of the art of diplomacy. 

He had not been sent here to watch this kingdom. He was touching adeeper undercurrent, which began at St. Petersburg and moved towardCentral Asia, Turkey and India, sullenly and irresistibly. And now histask was done, and another was to take his place, to be a puppet amongpuppets. He feared no man save his valet, who knew his one weakness, thelove of a son on whom he had shut his door, which pride forbade him toopen. This son had chosen the army, when a fine diplomatic career hadbeen planned--a small thing, but it sufficed. Even now a word from anhumbled pride would have reunited father and son, but both refused tospeak this word. 

The diplomat in turn watched the king as he engaged in the aimlessdrawing. His meditation grew retrospective, and his thoughts ran backto the days when he first befriended this lonely prince, who had come toEngland to learn the language and manners of the chill islanders. He hadbeen handsome enough in those days, this Leopold of Osia, gay and eager, possessing an indefinable charm which endeared him to women and made himrespected of men. To have known him then, the wildest stretch offancy would never have placed him on this puppet throne, surroundedby enemies, menaced by his adopted people, rudderless and ignorant ofstatecraft. 

"Fate is the cup, " the diplomat mused, "and the human life the ball, and it's toss, toss, toss, till the ball slips and falls into eternity. "Aloud he said, "Your Majesty seems to be well occupied. "

"Yes, " replied the king, smiling. "I am making crowns and scratchingthem out again--usurping the gentle pastime of their most ChristianMajesties, the confederation. A pretty bauble is a crown, indeed--at adistance. It is a fine thing to wear one--in a dream. But to possess onein the real, and to wear it day by day with the eternal fear of layingit down and forgetting where you put it, or that others plot to stealit, or that you wear it dishonestly--Well, well, there are worse thingsthan a beggar's crust. "

"No one is honest in this world, save the brute, " said the diplomat, touching the dog with his foot. "Honesty is instinctive with him, forhe knows no written laws. The gold we use is stamped with dishonesty, notwithstanding the beautiful mottoes; and so long as we barter andsell for it, just so long we remain dishonest. Yes, you wear your crowndishonestly but lawfully, which is a nice distinction. But is any crownworn honestly? If it is not bought with gold, it is bought with liesand blood. Sire, your great fault, if I may speak, is that you haven'tcontinued to be dishonest. You should have filled your private coffers, but you have not done so, which is a strange precedent to establish. Youshould have increased taxation, but you have diminished it; you shouldhave forced your enemy's hand four years ago, when you ascended thethrone, but you did not; and now, for all you know, his hand may betoo strong. Poor, dishonest king! When you accepted this throne, whichbelongs to another, you fell as far as possible from moral ethics. And now you would be honest and be called dull, and dream, while yourministers profit and smile behind your back. I beg your Majesty'spardon, but you have always requested that I should speak plainly. "

The king laughed; he enjoyed this frank friend. There was an essence oftruth and sincerity in all he said that encouraged confidence. 

"Indeed, I shall be sorry to have you go tomorrow, " he said, "for Ibelieve if you stayed here long enough you would truly make a king ofme. Be frank, my friend, be always frank; for it is only on the base offrankness that true friendship can rear itself. "

"You are only forty-eight, " said the Englishman; "you are young. "

"Ah, my friend, " replied the king with a tinge of sadness, "it is notthe years that age us; it is how we live them. In the last four years Ihave lived ten. To-day I feel so very old! I am weary of being a king. I am weary of being weary, and for such there is no remedy. Truly I wasnot cut from the pattern of kings; no, no. I am handier with a book thanwith a scepter; I'd liever be a man than a puppet, and a puppet I am--afigurehead on the prow of the ship, but I do not guide it. Who care forme save those who have their ends to gain? None, save the archbishop, who yet dreams of making a king of me. And these are not my people whosurround me; when I die, small care. I shall have left in the passingscarce a finger mark in the dust of time. "

"Ah, Sire, if only you would be cold, unfriendly, avaricious. Be stoneand rule with a rod of iron. Make the people fear you, since they refuseto love you; be stone. "

"You can mold lead, but you can not sculpture it; and I am lead. "

"Yes; not only the metal, but the verb intransitive. Ah, could the firesof ambition light your soul!"

"My soul is a blackened grate of burnt-out fires, of which only a coalremains. "

And the king turned in his seat and looked across the crisp greenlawns to the beds of flowers, where, followed by a maid at a respectfuldistance, a slim young girl in white was cutting the hardy geraniums, dahlias and seed poppies. 

"God knows what her legacy will be!"

"It is for you to make it, Sire. "

Both men continued to remark the girl. At length she came towardthem, her arms laden with flowers. She was at the age of ten, with abeautiful, serious face, which some might have called prophetic. Her hair was dark, shining like coal and purple, and gossamer in itsfineness; her skin had the blue-whiteness of milk; while from under longblack lashes two luminous brown eyes looked thoughtfully at the world. She smiled at the king, who eyed her fondly, and gave her unengaged handto the Englishman, who kissed it. 

"And how is your Royal Highness this fine day? he asked, patting thehand before letting it go. 

"Will you have a dahlia, Monsieur?" With a grave air she selected aflower and slipped it through his button-hole. 

"Does your Highness know the language of the flowers?" the Englishmanasked. 

"Dahlias signify dignity and elegance; you are dignified, Monsieur, anddignity is elegance. "

"Well!" cried the Englishman, smiling with pleasure; "that is turned asadroitly as a woman of thirty. "

"And am I not to have one?" asked the king, his eyes full of paternallove and pride. 

"They are for your Majesty's table, " she answered. 

"Your Majesty!" cried the king in mimic despair. "Was ever a fathertreated thus? Your Majesty! Do you not know, my dear, that to me'father' is the grandest title in the world?"

Suddenly she crossed over and kissed the king on the cheek, and he heldher to him for a moment. 

The bulldog had risen, and was wagging his tail the best he knew how. Ifthere was any young woman who could claim his unreserved admiration, it was the Princess Alexia. She never talked nonsense to him in theirrambles together, but treated him as he should be treated, as an animalof enlightenment. 

"And here is Bull, " said the princess, tickling the dog's nose with ascarlet geranium. 

"Your Highness thinks a deal of Bull?" said the dog's master. 

"Yes, Monsieur, he doesn't bark, and he seems to understand all I say tohim. "

The dog looked up at his master as if to say: "There now, what do youthink of that?"

"To-morrow I am going away, " said the diplomat, "and as I can not verywell take Bull with me, I give him to you. "

The girl's eyes sparkled. "Thank you, Monsieur, shall I take him now?"

"No, but when I leave your father. You see, he was sent to me by my sonwho is in India. I wish to keep him near me as long as possible. My son, your Highness, was a bad fellow. He ran away and joined the army againstmy wishes, and somehow we have never got together again. Still, I'vea sneaking regard for him, and I believe he hasn't lost all his filialdevotion. Bull is, in a way, a connecting link. "

The king turned again to the gravel pictures. These Englishmen werebeyond him in the matter of analysis. Her Royal Highness smiled vaguely, and wondered what this son was like. Once more she smiled, then movedaway toward the palace. The dog, seeing that she did not beckon, laydown again. An interval of silence followed her departure. The thoughtof the Englishman had traveled to India, the thought of the king toOsia, where the girl's mother slept. The former was first to rouse. 

"Well, Sire, let us come to the business at hand, the subject of my lastinformal audience. It is true, then, that the consols for the loanof five millions of crowns are issued to-day, or have been, since themorning is passed?"

"Yes, it is true. I am well pleased. Jacobi and Brother have agreed toplace them at face value. I intend to lay out a park for the public atthe foot of the lake. That will demolish two millions and a half. Theremainder is to be used in city improvements and the reconstruction ofthe apartments in the palace, which are too small. If only you knew whata pleasure this affords me! I wish to make my good city of Bleiberg athing of beauty--parks, fountains, broad and well paved streets. "

"The Diet was unanimous in regard to this loan?"

"In fact they suggested it, and I was much in favor. "

"You have many friends there, then?"

"Friends?" The king's face grew puzzled, and its animation faded away. "None that I know. This is positively the first time we ever agreedabout anything. "

"And did not that strike you as rather singular?"

"Why, no. "

"Of course, the people are enthusiastic, considering the old rate oftaxation will be renewed?" The diplomat reached over and pulled thedog's ears. 

"So far as I can see, " answered the king, who could make nothing of thisinterrogatory. 

"Which, if your Majesty will pardon me, is not very far beyond yourbooks. "

"I have ministers. "

"Who can see farther than your Majesty has any idea. "

"Come, come, my friend, " cried the king good-naturedly; "but a momentgone you were chiding me because I did nothing. I may not fill mycoffers as you suggested, but I shall please my eye, which is something. Come; you have something to tell me. "

"Will your Majesty listen?"

"I promise. "

"And to hear?"

"I promise not only to listen, but to hear, " laughing; "not only tohear, but to think. Is that sufficient?"

"For three years, " began the Englishman, "I have been England'srepresentative here. As a representative I could not meddle withyour affairs, though it was possible to observe them. To-day I am anunfettered agent of self, and with your permission I shall talk to youas I have never talked before and never shall again. "

The diplomat rose from his seat and walked up and down the path, hishands clasped behind his back, his chin in his collar. The bulldogyawned, stretched himself, and followed his master, soberly andthoughtfully. After a while the Englishman returned to his chair and satdown. The dog gravely imitated him. He understood, perhaps better thanthe king, his master's mood. This pacing backward and forward was alwaysthe forerunner of something of great importance. 

During the past year he had been the repository of many a secret. Well, he knew how to keep one. Did not he carry a secret which his masterwould have given much to know? Some one in far away India, after puttinghim into the ship steward's care, had whispered: "You tell the governorthat I think just as much of him as ever. " He had made a desperateeffort to tell it the moment he was liberated from the box, but hehad not yet mastered that particular language which characterized hismaster's race. 

"To begin with, " said the diplomat, "what would your Majesty say if Ishould ask permission to purchase the entire loan?"

CHAPTER II. THE COUP D'ETAT OF COUSIN JOSEF

The king, who had been leaning forward, fell back heavily in his seat, his eyes full wide and his mouth agape. Then, to express his utterbewilderment, he raised his hands above his head and limply droppedthem. 

"Five millions of crowns?" he gasped. 

"Yes; what would your Majesty say to such a proposition?" complacently. 

"I should say, " answered the king, with a nervous laugh, "that my friendhad lost his senses, completely and totally. "

"The fact is, " the Englishman declared, "they were never keener nor morelucid than at this present moment. "

"But five millions!"

"Five millions; a bagatelle, " smiling. 

"Certainly you can not be serious, and if you were, it is out of thequestion. Death of my life! The kingdom would be at my ears. The peoplewould shout that I was selling out to the English, that I was puttingthem into the mill to grind for English sacks. "

"Your Majesty will recollect that the measure authorizing this loanwas rather a peculiar one. Five millions were to be borrowedindiscriminately, of any man or body of men willing to advance the moneyon the securities offered. First come, first served, was not written, but it was implied. It was this which roused my curiosity, or cupidity, if you will. "

"I can not recollect that the bill was as you say, " said the king, frowning. 

"I believe you. When the bill came to you, you were not expected torecollect anything but the royal signature. Have you read half of whatyou have signed and made law? No. I am serious. What is it to you or tothe people, who secures this public mortgage, so long as the moneyis forthcoming? I desire to purchase at face value the twentycertificates. "

"As a representative of England?"

The diplomat smiled. The king's political ignorance was well known. "Asa representative of England, Sire, I could not purchase the stubs fromwhich these certificates are cut. And then, as I remarked, I am anunfettered agent of self. The interest at two per cent. Will be afine income on a lump of stagnant money. Even in my own country, wheremillionaires are so numerous as to be termed common, I am considered arich man. My personal property, aside from my estates, is five times theamount of the loan. A mere bagatelle, if I may use that pleasantry. "

"Impossible, impossible!" cried the king, starting to his feet, whilea line of worry ran across his forehead. He strode about impatientlyslapping his boots with the riding stick. "It is impossible. "

"Why do you say impossible, Sire?"

"I can not permit you to put in jeopardy a quarter of a million pounds, "forgetting for the moment that he was powerless. 

"Aha!" the diplomat cried briskly. "There is, then, beneath yourweariness and philosophy, a fear?"

"A fear?" With an effort the king smoothed the line from his forehead. "Why should there be fear?"

"Why indeed, when our cousin Josef--" He stopped and looked toward themountains. 

"Well?" abruptly. 

"I was thinking what a fine coup de maitre it would be for his Highnessto gather in all these pretty slips of parchment given under the hand ofLeopold. "

"Small matter if he should. I should pay him. " The king sat down. "Andit is news to me that Josef can get together five millions. "

"He has friends, rich and powerful friends. "

"No matter, I should pay him. "

"Are you quite sure?"

"What do you mean?"

"The face of the world changes in the course of ten years. Will there befive millions in your treasury ten years hence?"

"The wealth of my kingdom is not to be questioned, " proudly, "nor itsresources. "

"But in ten years, with the ministers you have?" The Englishman shruggeddoubtfully. "Why have you not formed a new cabinet of younger men?Why have you retained those of your predecessor, who are your naturalenemies? You have tried and failed. "

The expression of weariness returned to the king's face. He knew thatall this was but a preamble to something of deeper significance. Heanticipated what was forming in the other's mind, but he wished toavoid a verbal declaration. O, he knew that there was a net of intrigueenmeshing him, but it was so very fine that he could not pick up thesmallest thread whereby to unravel it. Down in his soul he felt theshame of the knowledge that he dared not. A dreamer, rushing toward theprecipice, would rather fall dreaming than waken and struggle futilely. 

"My friend, " he said, finally, sighing, "proceed. I am all attention. "

"I never doubted your Majesty's perspicacity. You do not know, but yoususpect, what I am about to disclose to you. My hope is that, when I amdone, your Majesty will throw Kant and the rest of your philosophers outof the window. The people are sullen at the mention of your name, while they cheer another. There is an astonishing looseness aboutyour revenues. The reds and the socialists plot for revolution anda republic, which is a thin disguise for a certain restoration. Yourcousin the duke visits you publicly twice each year. He has been in thecity a week at a time incognito, yet your minister of police seemsto know nothing. " The speaker ceased, and fondled the dahlia in hisbutton-hole. 

The king, noting the action, construed it as the subtle old diplomatintended he should. "Yes, yes! I am a king only for her sake. Go on. Tell me all. "

"The archbishop and the chancellor are the only friends you possess. The Marshal, from personal considerations merely, remains neutral. Yourarmy, excepting the cuirassiers, are traitors to your house. The wisestthing you have done was to surround yourself with this mercenary body, whom you call the royal cuirassiers, only, instead of three hundred, youshould have two thousand. Self-interest will make them true to you. You might find some means to pay them, for they would be a good bufferbetween you and your enemies. The president of the Diet and the membersare passing bills which will eventually undermine you. How long it willtake I can not say. But this last folly, the loan, which you could havegot on without, caps the climax. The duke was in the city last weekunknown to you. Your minister of finance is his intimate. This loanwas a connivance of them all. Why ten years, when it could easily beliquidated in five? I shall tell you. The duke expects to force you intobankruptcy within that time, and when the creditor demands and you cannot pay, you will be driven from here in disgrace. 

"And where will you go? Certainly not to Osia, since you traded it forthis throne. It was understood, when you assumed the reign, that thefinances of the kingdom would remain unimpeachable. Bankrupt, theconfederation will be forced to disavow you. They will be compelled torestore the throne to your enemy, who, believe me, is most anxious tobecome your creditor. 

"This is an independent state, --conditionally. The confederation haveformed themselves into a protectorate. Why? I can only guess. One ormore of them covet these beautiful lands. What are ten years to Josef, when a crown is the goal? Your revenues are slowly to decline, therewill be internal troubles to eat up what money you have in the treasury. O, it is a plot so fine, so swiftly conceived, so cunningly devised thatI would I were twenty years younger, to fight it with you! But I amold. My days for acting are past. I can only advise. He was sure of hisquarry, this Josef whose hair is of many colors. Had you applied to themoney syndicates of Europe, the banks of England, France, Germany, orAustria, your true sponsor, the result would always be the same: yourruin. Covertly I warned you not to sign; you laughed and signed. A trapwas there, your own hand opened it. How they must have laughed atyou! If you attempt to repudiate your signature the Diet has power tooverrule you. 

"Truly, the shade of Macchiavelli masks in the garb of your cousin. Iadmire the man's genius. This is his throne by right of inheritance. Ido not blame him. Only, I wish to save you. If you were alone, why, Ido not say that I should trouble myself, for you yourself would not betroubled. But I have grown to love that child of yours. It is all forher. Do you now understand why I make the request? It appears Quixotic?Not at all. Put my money in jeopardy? Not while the kingdom exists. Ifyou can not pay back, your kingdom will. Perhaps you ask what is thedifference, whether I or the duke becomes your creditor? This: in tenyears I shall be happy to renew the loan. In ten years, if I am gone, there will be my son. You wonder why I do this. I repeat it is for yourdaughter. And perhaps, " with a dry smile, "it is because I have no lovefor Josef. "

"I will defeat him!" cried the king, a fire at last shining in his eyes. 

"You will not. "

"I will appeal to the confederation and inform them of the plot. "

"The resource of a child! They would laugh at you for your pains. For they are too proud of their prowess in statecraft to toleratea suspicion that your cousin is a cleverer man than all of them puttogether. There remains only one thing for you to do. "

"And what is that?" wearily. 

"Accept my friendship at its true value. "

The king made no reply. He set his elbows on the arms of the rusticseat, interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on them, while hisbooted legs slid out before him. His meditation lengthened into severalminutes. The diplomat evinced no sign of impatience. 

"Come with me, " said the king, rising quickly. "I will no longer dream. I will act. Come. "

The diplomat nodded approvingly; and together they marched toward thepalace. The bulldog trotted on behind, his pink tongue lolling outof his black mouth, a white tusk or two gleaming on each side. TheLieutenant of the cuirassiers saluted as they passed him, and, when theyhad gone some distance, swung in behind. He observed with some concernthat his Majesty was much agitated. 

The business of the kingdom, save that performed in the Diet, wasaccomplished in the east wing of the palace; the king's apartments, aside from the state rooms, occupied the west wing. It was to thebusiness section that the king conducted the diplomat. In the chamber offinance its minister was found busy at his desk. He glanced up casually, but gave an ejaculation of surprise when he perceived who his visitorswere. 

"O, your Majesty!" he cried, bobbing up and running out his chair. "Good afternoon, your Excellency, " to the Englishman, adjusting hisgold-rimmed glasses, through which his eyes shone pale and cold. 

The diplomat bowed. The little man reminded him of M. Thiers, thateffervescence of soda tinctured with the bitterness of iron. Heunderstood the distrust which Count von Wallenstein entertained for him, but he was not distrustful of the count. Distrust implies uncertainty, and the Englishman was not the least uncertain as to his conception ofthis gentleman of finance. 

There were few men whom the count could not interpret; one stood beforehim. He could not comprehend why England had sent so astute a diplomatand politician to a third-rate kingdom. Of that which we can notunderstand we are suspicious, and the guilty are distrustful. Neitherthe minister of police nor his subordinates could fathom the purpose ofthis calm, dignified old man with the difficult English name. 

"Count, " began the king, pleasantly, "his Excellency here has made apeculiar request. "

"And what might that be, Sire?"

"He offers to purchase the entire number of certificates issued to-dayfor our loan. "

"Five millions of crowns?" The minister's astonishment was so genuinethat in jerking back his head his glasses slipped from his nose anddangled on the string. 

The Englishman bowed again, the wrinkle of a smile on his face. 

"I would not believe him serious at first, count, " said the king, laughing easily, "but he assured me that he is. What can be done aboutit?"

"O, your Majesty, " cried the minister, excitedly, "it would not bepolitic. And then the measure--"

"Is it possible that I have misconstrued its import?" the diplomatinterposed with a fine air of surprise. 

"You are familiar--" began the count, hesitatingly. 

"Perfectly; that is, I believe so. "

"But England--"

"Has nothing whatever to do with the matter. Something greater, whichgoes by the name of self-interest. "

"Ah, " said the count, his wrinkles relaxing; "then it is on your ownresponsibility?"

"Precisely. "

"But five millions of crowns--two hundred and fifty thousand pounds!"The minister could not compose himself. "This is a vast sum of money. Weexpected not an individual, but a syndicate, to accept our securities, to become debtors to the various banks on the continent. But a personalaffair! Five millions of crowns! The possibilities of your wealthoverwhelm me. "

The Englishman smiled. "I dare say I have more than my share of thisworld's goods. I can give you a check for the amount on the bank ofEngland. "

"Your Majesty's lamented predecessor--"

"Is dead, " said the king gently. He had no desire to hear the ministerrecount that ruler's virtues. "Peace to his ashes. "

"Five millions of crowns!" The minister had lost his equipoise in theface of the Englishman's great riches, of which hitherto he had heldsome doubts. Suddenly a vivid thought entered his confused brain. Thepaper cutter in his hand trembled. In the breathing space allowed himhe began to calculate rapidly. The king and the diplomat had been in thegarden; something had passed between them. What? The paper cutter slowlyceased its uneven movements. The count calmly placed it behind theinkwells. . .. . The Englishman knew. The glitter of gold gave way tothe thought of the peril. A chasm yawned at his feet. But he was an oldsoldier in the game of words and cross-purposes. 

"We should be happy to accord you the privilege of becoming thekingdom's creditor, " he said, smiling at the diplomat, whom nothing hadescaped. "I am afraid, however, that your request has been submitted toolate. At ten o'clock this morning the transfer of the certificates wouldhave been a simple matter. There are twenty in all; it may not be toolate to secure some of them. " He looked tranquilly from the Englishmanto the king. 

The smiling mask fell from the king's face; he felt that he was lost. Hetried to catch his friend's eye, but the diplomat was deeply interestedin the console of the fireplace. 

"They seem to be at a premium, " the Englishman said, "which speaks wellfor the prosperity of the country. I am sorry to have troubled you. "

"It would have been a pleasure indeed, " replied the count. He stoodsecure within his fortress, so secure that he would have liked to laugh. 

"It is too bad, " said the king, pulling his thoughts together. 

"Your Majesty is giving the matter too much importance, " said thediplomat. "It was merely a whim. I shall have the pleasure and honor ofpresenting my successor this evening. "

The count bent low, while the king nodded absently. He was thinking thata penful of ink, carelessly trailed over a sheet of paper, had lost himhis throne. He was about to draw the arm of the diplomat through hisown, when his step was arrested by the entrance of a messenger whopresented a letter to the minister of finance. 

"With your Majesty's permission, " he said, tearing open the envelope. As he read the contents, his shoulders sank to their habitual stoop andbenignity once more shone in the place of alertness. "Decidedly, fate isnot with your Excellency to-day. M. Jacobi writes me that four millionshave already been disposed of to M. Everard & Co. , English bankers inthe Konigstrasse, who are representing a French firm in this particularinstance. I am very sorry. "

"It is of no moment now, " replied the Englishman indifferently. 

The adverb which concluded this declaration caught the keen ear of theminister, who grew tall again. What would he not have given to readthe subtle brain of his opponent, for opponent he knew him to be! Hisintense scrutiny was blocked by a pair of most innocent eyes. 

"Well, " said the king impatiently, "let us be gone, my friend. The talkof money always leaves a copperish taste on my tongue. "

Arm in arm they passed from the chamber. When the door closed behindthem, the minister of finance drew his handkerchief across his brow. 

"Everard & Co. , " mused the Englishman aloud. "Was it not indeed a strokefor your cousin to select them as his agents? You will in truth beaccused of selling out to the English. But there is a coincidence in allthis. "

"I am lost!" said the king. 

"On the contrary, you are saved. Everard & Co. Are my bankers andattorneys; in fact, I own an interest in the firm. "

"What is this you tell me?" cried the king. 

"Sire, we English have a peculiar trait; it is asking for somethingafter we have taken it. The human countenance is a fine picture book. I should like to read that belonging to your cousin Josef, providing Icould read unobserved. "

"My friend!" said the king. 

"Say nothing. Here is the bulldog; take him to her Royal Highness withmy compliments. There is no truer friend than an animal of his breed. He is steadfast in his love, for he makes but few friends; he is a goodcompanion, for he is undemonstrative; he can read and draw inferences, and your enemies will be his. I shall bid you good afternoon. God bewith your Majesty. "

"Ah, to lose you now!" said, the king, a heaviness in his heart such aspresentiment brings. 

The diplomat turned and went down the grand corridor. The bulldog tuggedat his chain. Animals are gifted with prescience. He knew that hismaster had passed forever out of his life. Presently he heard thevoice of the princess calling; and the glamour of royalty encompassedhim, --something a human finds hard to resist, and he was only a dog. 

Meanwhile another messenger had entered the chamber of finance and hadgone. On the minister's desk lay a crumpled sheet of paper on which waswritten:

"Treason and treachery! It has at this moment been ascertained that, while pretending to be our agents in securing the consols, M. Everard &Co. Now refuse to deliver them into the custody of Baron von Rumpf, asagreed, and further, that M. Everard & Co. Are bankers and attorneys tohis Excellency the British minister. He must not leave this city withthose consols. "

With his eyes riveted on these words, the minister of finance, huddledin his chair, had fallen into a profound study. 

There were terrible times in the house of Josef that night. 

CHAPTER III. AN EPISODE TEN YEARS AFTER

One fine September morning in a year the date of which is of noparticular importance, a man stepped out of a second-class carriageon to the canopied platform of the railway terminus in the ancient andpicturesque city of Bleiberg. He yawned, shook himself, and stretchedhis arms and legs, relieved to find that the tedious journey from Viennahad not cramped those appendages beyond recovery. 

He stood some inches above the average height, and was built up ina manner that suggested the handiwork of a British drill-master, hisfigure being both muscular and symmetrical. Besides, there was on hisskin that rich brown shadow which is the result only of the forcesof the sun and wind, a life in the open air. This color gave peculiaremphasis to the yellow hair and mustache. His face was not handsome, if one accept the Greek profile as a model of manly beauty, but itwas cleanly and boldly cut, healthful, strong and purposeful, based ondetermined jaws and a chin which would have been obstinate but for thepresence of a kindly mouth. 

A guard deposited at his feet a new hatbox, a battered traveling bag andtwo gun cases which also gave evidence of rough usage. The luggage wasliterally covered with mutilated square and oblong slips of paper ofmany colors, on which were printed the advertisements of far-sightedhotel keepers all the way from Bombay to London and half-way back acrossthe continent. 

There was nothing to be seen, however, indicative of the traveler'sname. He surveyed his surroundings with lively interest shining in hisgray eyes, one of which peered through a monocle encircled by a thin rimof tortoise shell. He watched the fussy customs officials, who, bysome strange mischance, overlooked his belongings. Finally he made animpatient gesture. 

"Find me a cab, " he said to the attentive guard, who, with an eye tothe main chance, had waved off the approach of a station porter. "If theinspectors are in no hurry, I am. "

"At once, my lord;" and the guard, as he stooped and lifted the luggage, did not see the start which this appellation caused the stranger tomake, but who, after a moment, was convinced that the guard had givenhim the title merely out of politeness. The guard placed the trapsinside of one of the many vehicles stationed at the street exit of theterminus. He was an intelligent and deductive servant. 

The traveler was some noted English lord who had come to Bleibergto shoot the famed golden pheasant, and had secured a second-classcompartment in order to demonstrate his incognito. Persons who traveledsecond-class usually did so to save money; yet this tall Englishman, since the train departed from Vienna, had almost doubled in gratuitiesthe sum paid for his ticket. The guard stood respectfully at the doorof the cab, doffed his cap, into which a memento was dropped, and wentalong about his business. 

The Englishman slammed the door, the jehu cracked his whip, and a momentlater the hoarse breathings of the motionless engines became lost in thesharper noises of the city carts. The unknown leaned against the fadedcushions, curled his mustache, and smiled as if well satisfied withevents. It is quite certain that his sense of ease and security wouldhave been somewhat disturbed had he known that another cab was closeon the track of his, and that its occupant, an officer of the citygendarmerie, alternately smiled and frowned as one does who floatsbetween conviction and uncertainty. At length the two vehicles turnedinto the Konigstrasse, the principal thoroughfare of the capital, andhere the Englishman's cab came to a stand. The jehu climbed down andopened the door. 

"Did Herr say the Continental?" he asked. 

"No; the Grand. "

The driver shrugged, remounted his box, and drove on. The Grand Hotelwas clean enough and respectable, but that was all that could be saidin its favor. He wondered if the Englishman would haggle over the fare. Englishmen generally did. He was agreeably disappointed, however, when, on arriving at the mean hostelry, his passenger plunged a hand into apocket and produced three Franz-Josef florins. 

"You may have these, " he said, "for the trouble of having them exchangedinto crowns. "

As he whipped up, the philosophical cabman mused that these touristswere beyond the pale of his understanding. With a pocket full of money, and to put up at the Grand! Why not the Continental, which lay close tothe Werter See, the palaces, the royal and public gardens? It was atthe Continental that the fine ladies and gentlemen from Vienna, andInnsbruck, and Munich, and Belgrade, resided during the autumn months. But the Grand--ach! it was in the heart of the shops and markets, andwithin a stone's throw of that gloomy pile of granite designated in thevarious guide books as the University of Bleiberg. 

The Englishman had some difficulty in finding a pen that would write, and the ink was oily, and the guest-book was not at the proper angle. At last he managed to form the letters of his name, which was JohnHamilton. After some deliberation, he followed this with "England. " Theproprietor, who acted as his own clerk, drew the book toward him, andafter some time, deciphered the cabalistic signs. 

"Ah, Herr John Hamilton of England; is that right?"

"Yes; I am here for a few days' shooting. Can you find me a man to actas guide?"

"This very morning, Herr. "

"Thanks. "

Then he proceeded up the stairs to the room assigned to him. The smellof garlic which pervaded the air caused him to make a grimace. Oncealone in the room, he looked about. There was neither soap nor towel, but there was a card which stated that the same could be purchased atthe office. He laughed. A pitcher of water and a bowl stood on a smalltable, which, by the presence of a mirror (that could not in truthreflect anything but light and darkness), served as a dresser. Thesehe used to good advantage, drying his face and hands on the whitecounterpane of the bed, and laughing quietly as he did so. Next he lita pipe, whose capacity for tobacco was rather less than that of a lady'sthimble, sat in a chair by the window, smoked quietly, and gazed down onthe busy street. 

It was yet early in the morning; sellers of vegetables, men and womenpeasants, with bare legs and wooden shoes, driving shaggy Servian poniesattached to low, cumbersome carts, passed and repassed, to and from themarkets. A gendarme, leaning the weight of his shoulder on the guard ofa police saber, rested against the corner of a wine shop across the way. Students, wearing squat caps with vizors, sauntered indolently along, twirling canes and ogling all who wore petticoats. Occasionally thebright uniform of a royal cuirassier flashed by; and the Englishmanwould lean over the sill and gaze after him, nodding his head inapproval whenever the cuirassier sat his horse well. 

In the meantime the gendarme, who followed him from the station, hadentered the hotel, hastily glanced at the freshly written name, and madeoff toward the palace. 

"Well, here we are, " mused the Englishman, pressing his thumb into thebowl of his pipe. "The affair promises some excitement. To-morrow willbe the sixth; on the twentieth it will be a closed incident, as thediplomats would say. I don't know what brought me here so far ahead oftime. I suppose I must look out for a crack on the head from some oneI don't know, but who knows me so deuced well that he has hunted mein India and England, first with fine bribes, then with threats. " Heglanced over his shoulder in the direction of the gun cases. "It was acapital idea, otherwise a certain ubiquitous customs official, who liesin wait for the unwary at the frontier, would now be an inmate ofa hospital. To have lived thirty-five years, and to have ground outthirteen of them in her Majesty's, is to have acquired a certain disdainfor danger, even when it is masked. I am curious to see how far thesethreats will go. It will take a clever man to trap me. The incognito isa fort. By the way, I wonder how the inspectors at the station came tooverlook my traps? Strange, considering what I have gone through. "

At this moment the knuckles of a hand beat against the door. 

"Come in!" answered the Englishman, wheeling his chair, but making noeffort to rise. "Come in!"

The door swung in, and there entered a short, spectacled man in darkgray clothes which fairly bristled with brass buttons. He was the chiefinspector of customs. He bowed. 

The Englishman, consternation widening his eyes, lowered his pipe. 

"Monsieur Hamilton's pardon, " the inspector began, speaking in French, "but with your permission I shall inspect your luggage and glance atyour passports. " He bowed again. 

"Now do you know, mon ami, " replied the Englishman, "that MonsieurHamilton will not permit you to gaze even into yonder washbowl?" He roselazily. 

"But, Monsieur, " cried the astonished official, to whom non-complaisancein the matter of inspection was unprecedented, "you certainly will notput any obstacle in the path of my duty!"

"Your duty, Monsieur the Spectacles, is to inspect at the station. There your assistants refused to award me their attention. You aretrespassing. "

"Monsieur forgets, " sternly; "it is the law. Is it possible that I shallbe forced to call in the gendarmes to assist me? This is extraordinary!"

"I dare say it is, on your part, " admitted the Englishman, polishing thebowl of his pipe against the side of his nose. "You had best go at once. If you do not, I shall take you by the nape of your Bleibergian neck andkick you down the stairs. I have every assurance of my privileges. The law here, unless it has changed within the past hour, requiresinspection at the frontier, and at the capital; but your jurisdictiondoes not extend beyond the stations. Bon jour, Monsieur the Spectacles;bon jour!"

"O, Monsieur!"

"Good day!"

"Monsieur, it is my duty; I must!"

"Good day! How will you go, by the stairs or by the window? I--butwait!" an idea coming to him which caused him to reflect on the possibleoutcome of violence done to a government official, who, perhaps, wasdischarging his peculiar duty at the orders of superiors. He walkedswiftly to the door and slid the bolt, to the terror of the inspector, on whose brow drops of perspiration began to gather. "Now, " opening thehat box and taking out a silk hat, "this is a hat, purchased in Parisat Cook's. There is nothing in the lining but felt. Look into thebox; nothing. Take out your book and follow me closely, " he continued, dividing the traveling bag into halves, and he began to enumerate thecontents. 

"But, Monsieur!" remonstrated the inspector, who did not enjoy thisinfringement of his prerogatives; his was the part to overhaul. "Thisis--"

"Be still and follow me, " and the Englishman went on with theinventory. "There!" when he had done, "not a dutiable thing except thisGerman-Scotch whisky, and that is so bad that I give it to you ratherthan pay duty. What next? My passports? Here they are, absolutelyflawless, vised by the authorities in Vienna. "

The slips crackled in the fluttering fingers of the inspector. "Theyare as you say, Monsieur, " he said, returning the permits. Then he addedtimidly, "And the gun cases?"

"The gun cases!" The pipe spilled its coal to the floor. "The guncases!"

"Yes, Monsieur. "

"And why do you wish to look into them?" with agitation. 

"Smugglers sometimes fill them with cigars. "

"Ah!" The Englishman selected two loaded shells, drew a gun from thecase, threw up the breech and rammed in the shells. Then he extendedthe weapon to within an inch of the terrified inspector's nose. "Now, Monsieur the Spectacles, look in there and tell me what you see. "

The fellow sank half-fainting into a chair. "Mon Dieu, Monsieur, wouldyou kill me who have a family?"

"What's a customs inspector, more or less?" asked the terrible islander, laughing. "I advise you not to ask me to let you look into the othergun, out of consideration for your family. It has hair triggers, and myfingers tremble. "

"Monsieur, Monsieur, you do wrong to trifle with the law. I shall beobliged to report you. You will be arrested. "

"Nothing of the kind, " was the retort. "I have only to inform theBritish minister how remiss you were in your obligations. I should gofree, whereas you would be discharged. But what I demand to know is, what the devil is the meaning of this farce. "

"I am simply obeying orders, " answered the inspector, wiping hisforehead. "It is not a farce, as Monsieur will find. " Then, as if toexcuse this implied threat: "Will Monsieur please point the gun theother way?"

The Englishman unloaded the gun and tossed it on the bed. 

"Thanks. In coming here I simply obeyed the orders of the minister ofpolice. "

"And what in the world did you expect to find?"

"We are looking--that is, they are looking--O, Monsieur, it isimpossible for me to disclose to you my government's purposes. "

"What and whom were you expecting?" demanded the Englishman. "Youshall not leave this room till you have fully explained this remarkableintrusion. "

"We were expecting the Lord and Baronet Fitzgerald. "

"The lord!" laughing. "Does the lord visit Bleiberg often, then, thatyou prepare this sort of a reception? And the Baronet Fitzgerald?"

"They are the same and the one person. "

"And who the deuce is he; a spy, a smuggler, a villain, or what?"

"As to that, Monsieur, " with a wonder why this man laughed, "I know nomore than you. But I do know that for the past month every Englishmanhas been subjected to this surveillance, and has submitted with moregrace than you, " with an oblique glance. 

"What! Examined his luggage at the hotel?"

"Yes, Monsieur. It is the order of the minister of police. I know notwhy. " The natural color was returning to his cheeks. 

"This is a fine country, I must say. At least the king should acquainthis visitors with the true cause of this treatment. " In his turn theEnglishman resorted to oblique glances. 

"The king?" The inspector raised a shoulder and spread his hands. "Theking is a paralytic, Monsieur, and has little to say these days. "

"A paralytic? I thought he was called `the handsome monarch'?"

"That was years ago, Monsieur. For three years he has been helpless andbedridden. The archbishop is the real king nowadays. But he meddles notwith the police. "

"This is very sad. I suppose it would be impossible for strangers to seehim now. "

"An audience?" a sparkle behind the spectacles. "Is your business withthe king, Monsieur?"

"My business is mine, " shortly. "I am only a tourist, and should haveliked to see the king from mere curiosity. However, had you explainedall this to me, I should not have caused you so many gray hairs. "

"Monsieur did not give me the chance, " simply. 

"True, " the Englishman replied soberly. He began to think that he hadbeen over hasty in asserting his privileges. "But all this has nothingto do with me. My name is John Hamilton. See, it is engraved on thestock of the gun, " catching it up and holding it under the spectacledeyes, which still observed it with some trepidation. "That is the namein my passports, in the book down stairs, in the lining of my hat. I amsorry, since you were only obeying orders, that my rough play has causedyou alarm. " He unbolted the door. "Good morning. "

The inspector left the room as swiftly as his short legs could carryhim, ignoring the ethics of common politeness. As he stumbled down thestairs he cursed the minister of police for requiring this spy work ofhim, and not informing him why it was done. Ah, these cursed Anglaisfrom Angleterre! They were all alike, and this one was the worst he hadever encountered. And those ugly black orifices in the gun! Peste! Hewould resign! Yes, certainly he would resign. 

As to the Englishman, he stood in the center of the room and scratchedhis head. "Hang it, I've made an ass of myself. That blockhead will havethe gendarmes about my ears. If they arrest me there will be the devilto pay. The Lord and the Baronet Fitzgerald!" he repeated. He sat downon the edge of the bed, and fell to laughing again. "Confound thesepicture-book kingdoms! They always take themselves so seriously. Well, if the gendarmes call this afternoon I'll not be at home. No, thank you. I shall be hunting pheasants. "

And thereat he set to work cleaning the gun which had all but prostratedthe inspector. Soon the room smelled of oiled rags and tobacco. Some-times the worker whistled softly. Sometimes he let the gun fallagainst his knee, and stared dreamily through the window at the flightof the ragged clouds. Again, he would shake his head, as if there weresomething which he failed to understand. Half an hour passed, when againsome one knocked on the door. 

"Come in!" Under his breath he added: "The gendarmes, likely. "

But it was only the proprietor of the hotel. "Asking Herr's pardon, " hesaid, "for this intrusion, but I have secured a man for you. I have thehonor to recommend Johann Kopf as a good guide and hunter. "

"Send him up. If he pleases me, I'll use him. "

The proprietor withdrew. 

Johann Kopf proved to be a young German with a round, ruddy face, which was so innocent of guile as to be out of harmony with theshrewd, piercing black eyes looking out of it. The Englishman eyed himinquisitively, even suspiciously. 

"Are you a good hunter?" he asked. 

"There is none better hereabout, " answered Johann, twirling his cap withnoticeably white fingers. It was only in after days that the Englishmanappreciated the full significance of this answer. 

"Speak English?"

"No. Herr's German is excellent, however. "

"Humph!" The Englishman gave a final glance into the shining tubes ofthe gun, snapped the breach, and slipped it into the case. "You'll do. Return to the office; I'll be down presently. "

"Will Herr hunt this morning?"

"No; what I wish this morning is to see the city of Bleiberg. "

"That is simple, " said Johann. The fleeting, imperceptible smile did notconvict his eyes of false keenness. 

He bowed out. When the door closed the Englishman waited until the soundof retreating steps failed. Then he took the gun case which he had notyet opened, and thrust it under the mattress of the bed. 

"Johann, " he said, as he put on a soft hat and drew a cane from thestraps of the traveling bag, "you will certainly precede me in ourhunting expeditions. I do not like your eyes; they are not at home inyour boyish face. Humph! what a country. Every one speaks a differenttongue. "

The city of Bleiberg lay on a hill and in the valleys which fell awayto the east and west. It was divided into two towns, the upper andthe lower. The upper town and that part which lay on the shores of theWerter See was the modern and fashionable district. It was here that theking and the archbishop had their palaces and the wealthy their brickand stone. The public park skirted the lake, and was patterned afterthose fine gardens which add so much to the picturesqueness of Viennaand Berlin. There were wide gravel paths and long avenues of loftychestnuts and lindens, iron benches, fountains and winding flower beds. The park, the palaces, and the Continental Hotel enclosed a publicsquare, paved with asphalt, called the Hohenstaufenplatz, in the centerof which rose a large marble fountain of several streams, guarded byhuge bronze wolves. Here, too, were iron benches which were, for themost part, the meeting-place of the nursemaids. Carriages were allowedto make the circuit, but not to obstruct the way. 

The Konigstrasse began at the Platz, divided the city, and wound awaysouthward, merging into the highway which continued to the Thalian Alps, some thirty miles distant. The palaces were at the southeast corner ofthe Platz, first the king's, then the archbishop's. The private gardensof each ran into the lake. Directly across from the palaces stood thecathedral, a relic of five centuries gone. On the northwest corner stoodthe Continental Hotel, with terrace and parapet at the water's edge, anda delightful open-air cafe facing the Platz. September and October wereprosperous months in Bleiberg. Fashionable people who desired quiet madeBleiberg an objective point. The pheasants were plump, there were boars, gray wolves, and not infrequently Monsieur Fourpaws of the shaggy coatwandered across from the Carpathians. 

As to the lower town, it was given over to the shops and markets, thebarracks, the university, and the Rathhaus, which served as the house ofthe Diet. It was full of narrow streets and quaint dwellings. 

Up the Konigstrasse the guide led the Englishman, who nodded wheneverthe voluble chatter of the German pleased him. When they began thedescent of the hill, the vista which opened before them drew from theEnglishman an ejaculation of delight. There lay the lake, like a brightnew coin in a green purse; the light of the sun broke on the whitebuildings and flashed from the windows; and the lawns twinkled likeemeralds. 

"It makes Vienna look to her laurels, eh, Herr?" said Johann. 

"But it must have cost a pretty penny. "

"Aye, that it did; and the king is being impressed with that fact everyday. There are few such fine palaces outside of first-class kingdoms. The cathedral there was erected at the desire of a pope, born fivehundred years ago. It is full of romance. There is to be a grand weddingthere on the twentieth of this month. That is why there are so manyfashionable people at the hotels. The crown prince of Carnavia, whichis the large kingdom just east of us, is to wed the Princess Alexia, thedaughter of the king. "

"On the twentieth? That is strange. "

"Strange?"

"I meant nothing, " said the Englishman, jerking back his shoulders;"I had in mind another affair. "

There was a flash in Johann's eyes, but he subdued it before theEnglishman was aware of its presence. "However, " said Johann, "there issomething strange. The prince was to have arrived a week ago to completethe final arrangements for the wedding. His suite has been here a week, but no sign of his Highness. He stopped over a train at Ehrensteinto visit for a few hours a friend of the king, his father. Since thennothing has been heard from him. The king, it is said, fears that someaccident has happened to him. Carnavia is also disturbed over thisdisappearance. Some whisper of a beautiful peasant girl. Who can say?"

"Any political significance in this marriage?"

"Leopold expects to strengthen his throne by the alliance. But--"Johann's mouth closed and his tongue pushed out his cheek. "There willbe some fine doings in the good city of Bleiberg before the month isgone. The minister from the duchy has been given his passports. Everyone concedes that trouble is likely to ensue. Baron von Rumpf--"

"Baron von Rumpf, " repeated the Englishman thoughtfully. 

"Yes; he is not a man to submit to accusations without making adisagreeable defense. "

"What does the duke say?"

"The duke?"

"Yes. "

"His Highness has been dead these four years. "

"Dead four years? So much for man and his futile dreams. Dead fouryears, " absently. 

"What did you say, Herr?"

"I? Nothing. How did he die?"

"He was thrown from his horse and killed. But the duchess lives, and sheis worthy of her sire. Eh, Herr, there is a woman for you! She shouldsit on this throne; it is hers by right. These Osians are aliens andwere forced on us. "

"It seems to me, young man, that you are talking treason. "

"That is my business, Herr. " Johann laughed. "I am a socialist, andoccasionally harangue for the reds. And sometimes, when I am in need ofmoney, I find myself in the employ of the police. "

The muscles of the Englishman's jaws hardened, then they relaxed. Theexpression on the face of his guide was free from anything but bonhomie. 

"One must live, " Johann added deprecatingly. 

"Yes, one must live, " replied the Englishman. 

"O! but I could sell some fine secrets to the Osians had they money topay. Ach! but what is the use? The king has no money; he is on the vergeof bankruptcy, and this pretty bit of scenery is the cause of it. "

"So you are a socialist?" said the Englishman, passing over Johann'sdeclamatory confidences. 

"Yes, Herr. All men are brothers. "

"Go to!" laughed the Englishman, "you aren't even a second cousin to me. But stay, what place is this we are passing?" indicating with his cane ared-brick mansion which was fronted by broad English lawns and protectedfrom intrusion by a high iron fence. 

"That is the British legation, Herr. "

The Englishman stopped and stared, unconscious of the close scrutiny ofthe guide. His eyes traveled up the wide flags leading to the veranda, and he drew a picture of a square-shouldered old man tramping backwardand forward, the wind tangling his thin white hair, his hands behind hisback, his chin in his collar and at his heels a white bulldog. Rapidlyanother picture came. It was an English scene. And the echo of a voicefell on his ears. "My way and the freedom of the house and the key tothe purse; your way and a closed door while I live. You can go, but youcan not come back. You have decided? Yes? Then good morning. " Thirteenyears, thirteen years! He had sacrificed the freedom of the house andthe key to the purse, the kind eyes and the warm pressure of that oldhand. And for what? Starvation in the deserts, plenty of scars andlittle of thanks, ingratitude and forgetfulness. 

And now the kind eyes were closed and the warm hand cold. O, to recallthe vanished face, the silent voice, the misspent years, the April daysand their illusions! The Englishman took the monocle from his eye andlooked at it, wondering what had caused the sudden blur. 

"There was a fine old man there in the bygone days, " said Johann. 

"And who was he?"

"Lord Fitzgerald, the British minister. He and Leopold were closefriends. " Johann's investigating gaze went unrewarded. The Englishman'sface had resumed its expression of mild curiosity. 

"Ah; a compatriot of mine, " he said. Inwardly he mused: "This guide iswatching me; let him catch me if he can. His duchess? I know far toomuch of her!"

"He was a millionaire, too, " went on Johann. 

"Well, we can't all be rich. Come. "

They crossed the Strasse and traversed the walk at the side of thepalace enclosures. The Englishman aimlessly trailed his cane along thegreen pickets of the fence till they ended in a stone arch which rosehigh over the driveway. The gates were open, and coming toward the twowanderers as they stood at the curb rolled the royal barouche, oneach side of which rode a mounted cuirassier, sashed and helmeted. TheEnglishman, however, had observed nothing; he was lost in some dream. 

"Look, Herr!" cried Johann, rousing the other by a pull at the sleeve. "Look!" Socialist though he claimed to be, Johann touched his cap. 

In the barouche, leaning back among the black velvet cushions, her facemellowed by the shade of a small parasol, was a young woman of nineteenor twenty, as beautiful as a da Vinci freshly conceived. The Englishmansaw a pair of grave dark eyes which, in the passing, met his and heldthem. He caught his breath. 

"Who is that?" he asked. 

"That is her Royal Highness the Crown Princess Alexia. "

Afterward the Englishman remembered seeing a white dog lying on theopposite seat. 

CHAPTER IV. AN ADVENTURE WITH ROYALTY

Maurice Carewe, attached to the American legation in Vienna, leanedagainst the stone parapet which separated the terraced promenade of theContinental Hotel from the Werter See, and wondered what had induced himto come to Bleiberg. 

He had left behind him the glory of September in Vienna, a city secondonly to Paris in fashion and gaiety; Vienna, with its inimitable bands, its incomparable gardens, its military maneuvers, its salons, itscharming women; and all for a fool's errand. His Excellency was toblame. He had casually dropped the remark that the duchy's minister, Baron von Rumpf, had been given his passports as a persona non grata bythe chancellor of the kingdom, and that a declaration of war was likelyto follow. Maurice's dormant love of journalistic inquiry had becomearoused, and he had asked permission to investigate the affair, a favorreadily granted to him. 

But here he was, on the scene, and nobody knew anything, and nobodycould tell anything. The duchess had remained silent. Not unnaturally hewished himself back in Vienna. There were no court fetes in the cityof Bleiberg. The king's condition was too grave to permit them. And, besides, there had been no real court in Bleiberg for the space of tenyears, so he was told. Those solemn affairs of the archbishop's, givenonce the week for the benefit of the corps diplomatique, were dull andspiritless. Her Royal Highness was seldom seen, save when she drovethrough the streets. Persons who remembered the reign before told what amad, gay court it had been. Now it was funereal. The youth and beauty ofBleiberg held a court of its own. Royalty was not included, nor did itask to be. 

A strange capital, indeed, Maurice reflected, as he gazed down into thecool, brown water. He regretted his caprice. There were pretty women inVienna. Some of them belonged to the American colony. They danced well, they sang and played and rode. He had taught some of them how to fence, and he could not remember the times he had been "buttoned" while payingtoo much attention to their lips and eyes. For Maurice loved a thingof beauty, were it a woman, a horse or a Mediterranean sunset. What adifference between these two years in Vienna and that year in Calcutta!He never would forget the dingy office, with its tarnished sign, "U. S. Consul, " tacked insecurely on the door, and the utter loneliness. 

He cast a pebble into the lake, and watched the ripples roll away anddisappear, and ruminated on a life full of color and vicissitude. Heremembered the Arizona days, the endless burning sand, the dull routineof a cavalry trooper, the lithe brown bodies of the Apaches, the firstskirmish and the last. From a soldier he had turned journalist, trampedthe streets of Washington in rain and shine, living as a man lived whomust. 

One day his star had shot up from the nadir of obscurity, not very far, but enough to bring his versatility under the notice of the discerningSecretary of State, who, having been a friend of the father, offeredthe son a berth in the diplomatic corps. A consulate in a South Americanrepublic, during a revolutionary crisis, where he had shown consummateskill in avoiding political complications (and where, by a shrewdspeculation in gold, he had feathered his nest for his declining years), proved that the continual incertitude of a journalistic career is a finebasis for diplomatic work. From South America he had gone to Calcutta, thence to Austria. 

He was only twenty-nine, which age in some is youth. He possessed an oldman's wisdom and a boy's exuberance of spirits. He laughed whenever hecould; to him life was a panorama of vivid pictures, the world avast theater to which somehow he had gained admission. His beardlesscountenance had deceived more than one finished diplomat, for it wasdifficult to believe that behind it lay an earnest purpose and a daringcourage. If he bragged a little, quizzed graybeards, sought strangeplaces, sported with convention, and eluded women, it was due to hisrestlessness. Yet, he had the secretiveness of sand; he absorbed, buthe revealed nothing. He knew his friends; they thought they knew him. Itwas his delight to have women think him a butterfly, men write him downa fool; it covered up his real desires and left him free. 

What cynicism he had was mellowed by a fanciful humor. Whether withsteel or with words, he was a master of fence; and if at times some onegot under his guard, that some one knew it not. To let your enemy seethat he has hit you is to give him confidence. He saw humor where no oneelse saw it, and tragedy where it was not suspected. He was one of thoserare individuals who, when the opportunity of chance refuses to come, makes one. 

"Germany and Austria are great countries, " he mused, lighting a cigar. "Every hundredth man is a king, one in fifty is a duke, every tenth manis a prince, and one can not take a corner without bumping into acount or a baron. Even the hotel waiters are disquieting; there is thatembarrassing atmosphere about them which suggests nobility in durancevile. As for me, I prefer Kentucky, where every man is a colonel, andyou never make a mistake. And these kingdoms!" He indulged in subduedlaughter. "They are always like comic operas. I find myself lookingaround every moment for the merry villagers so happy and so gay (atfifteen dollars the week), the eternal innkeeper and the perennialsoubrette his daughter, the low comedian and the self-conscious tenor. Heigho! and not a soul in Bleiberg knows me, nor cares. 

"I'd rather talk five minutes to a pretty woman than eat stuffedpheasants the year around, and the stuffed pheasant is about allBleiberg can boast of. Well, here goes for a voyage of discovery;" andhe passed down the stone steps to the pier, quite unconscious of theadmiring glances of the women who fluttered back and forth on the widebalconies above. 

It was four o'clock in the afternoon; a fresh wind redolent of pine andresin blew across the lake. Maurice climbed into a boat and pulled awaywith a strong, swift stroke, enjoying the liberation of his muscles. Aquarter of a mile out he let the oars drift and took his bearings. Hesaw the private gardens of the king and the archbishop, and, convincedthat a closer view would afford him entertainment, he caught up the oarsagain and moved inland. 

The royal gardens ran directly into the water, while those of thearchbishop were protected by a wall of brick five or six feet in height, in the center of which was a gate opening on the water. Behind the gatewas a small boat dock. Maurice plied the oars vigorously. He skirted theroyal gardens, and the smell of newly mown lawns filled the air. Soon hewas gliding along the sides of the moss-grown walls. A bird chirped inthe overhanging boughs. He was about to cast loose the oars again, whenthe boat was brought to a violent stop. A few yards waterward from thegate there lay, hidden in the shadowed water, a sunken pier. On one ofthe iron piles the boat had become impaled. 

Maurice was tumbled into the bow of the boat, which began rapidly tofill. First he swore, then he laughed, for he was possessed of infinitegood humor. The only thing left for him to do was to swim for the gate. With a rueful glance at his thin clothes, he dropped himself over theside of the wreck and struck out toward the gate. The water, having itssource from the snowclad mountains, was icy. He was glad enough to graspthe lower bars of the gate and draw himself up. He was on the point ofclimbing over, when a picture presented itself to his streaming eyes. 

Seated on a bench made of twisted vine was a young girl. She held in herhand a book, but she was not reading it. She was scanning the unwrittenpages of some reverie; her eyes, dark, large and wistful, were holdingcommunion with the god of dreams. A wisp of hair, glossy as coal, trembled against a cheek white as the gown she wore. 

At her side, blinking in the last rays of the warm sun, sat a bulldog, toothless and old. Now and then a sear leaf, falling in a zig-zagcourse, rustled past his ears, and he would shake his head as if he, too, were dreaming and the leaves disturbed him. All at once he sniffed, his ears stood forward, and a low growl broke the enchantment. Thegirl, on discovering Maurice, closed the book and rose. The dog, stillgrowling, jumped down and trotted to the gate. Maurice thought that itwas time to speak. 

"Mademoiselle, " he said, "pardon this intrusion, but my boat has metwith an accident. "

The girl came to the gate. "Why, Monsieur, " she exclaimed, "you arewet!"

"That is true, " replied Maurice, his teeth beginning to knock together. "I was forced to swim. If you will kindly open the gate and guide me tothe street, I shall be much obliged to you. "

The gate swung outward, and in a moment Maurice was on dry land, or thenext thing to it, which was the boat-dock. 

"Thank you, " he said. 

"O! And you might have been drowned, " compassion lighting her beautifuleyes. "Sit down on the bench, Monsieur, for you must be weak. And it wasthat sunken pier? I shall speak to Monseigneur; he must have itremoved. Bull, stop growling; you are very impolite; the gentleman is indistress. "

Maurice sat down, not because he was weak, but because the desire togain the street had suddenly subsided. Who was this girl who could say"must" to the formidable prelate? His quick eye noticed that she showedno sign of embarrassment. Indeed, she impressed him as one who wassuperior to that petty disturbance of collected thought. Somehow itseemed to him, as she stood there looking down at him, that he, too, should be standing. But she put forth a hand with gentle insistence whenhe made as though to rise. What an exquisite face, he thought. Againstthe whiteness of her skin her lips burned like poppy petals. Innocent, inquisitive eyes smiled gently, eyes in whose tranquil depths lay theglory of the world, asleep. Presently a color, faint and fugitive, dimmed the whiteness of her cheeks. Maurice, conscious of his rudenessand of a warmth in his own cheeks, instinctively lowered his gaze. 

"Pardon my rudeness, " he said. 

"What is your name, Monsieur, " she asked calmly. 

"It is Maurice Carewe. I am living in Vienna. I came to Bleiberg forpleasure, but the first day has not been propitious, " with an apologeticglance at his dripping clothes. 

"Maurice Carewe, " slowly repeating the full name as if to imprint it onher memory. "You are English?"

He said: "No; I am one of those dreadful Yankees you have possibly readabout. "

Her teeth gleamed. "Yes, I have heard of them. But you do not appear sovery dreadful; though at present you are truly not at your best. What isthis--this Yankeeland like?"

"It would take me ever so long to tell you about it, it is such a greatcountry. "

"You are a patriot!" clapping her hands. "No other country is sofine and large and great as your own. But tell me, is it as large asAustria?"

"Austria? You will not be offended if I tell you?"

"No. "

"Well, " with fun in his eyes, "it is my opinion that I could hideAustria in my country so thoroughly that nobody would ever be able tofind it again. " He wondered how she would accept this statement. 

She lifted her chin and laughed, and the bulldog wagged his tail, ashe always did when mirth touched her. He jumped up beside Maurice andlooked into his face. Maurice patted his broad head, and he submitted. The girl looked rather surprised. 

"Are you a magician?" she asked. 

"Why?"

"Bull never makes friends. "

"But I do, " said Maurice; "perhaps he understands that, and comeshalf-way. But it is rather strange to see a bulldog in this part of thecountry. "

"He was given to me, years ago, by an Englishman. "

"That accounts for it. " He was experiencing a deal of cold, but he darednot mention it. "And may I ask your name?"

"Ah, Monsieur, " shyly, "to tell you my name would be to frighten youaway. "

"I am sure nothing could do that, " he declared earnestly. Had he beenthinking of aught but her eyes he might have caught the significance ofher words. But, then, the cold was numbing. 

She surveyed him with critical eyes. She saw a clean-shaven face, brown, handsome and eager, merry blue eyes, a chin firm and aggressive, amischievous mouth, a forehead which showed the man of thought, a slimathletic form which showed the man of action--all of which combined toproduce that indescribable air which attaches itself to the gentleman. 

"It is Alexia, " she said, after some hesitation, watching him closely toobserve the effect. 

But he was as far away as ever. "Alexia what?"

"Only Alexia, " a faint coquetry stealing into her glance. 

"O, then you are probably a maid?"

"Y--es. But you are disappointed?"

"No, indeed. You have put me more at ease. I suppose you serve theprincess?"

"Whenever I can, " demurely. 

He could not keep his eyes from hers. "They say that she is a verylonely princess. "

"So lonely. " And the coquetry faded from her eyes as her glance wanderedwaterward and became fixed on some object invisible and far away. "Poorlonely princess!"

Maurice was growing colder and colder, but he did not mind. He hadwished for some woman to talk to; his wish had been granted. "I feelsorry for her, if what they say is true, " having no other words. 

"And what do they say, Monsieur?"

"That she and her father have been socially ostracized. I should beproud to be her friend. " Once the words were gone from him, he sawtheir silliness. "A presumptuous statement, " he added; "I am an obscureforeigner. "

"Friendship, Monsieur, is a thing we all should prize, all the more sowhen it is disinterested. "

He said rapidly, for fear she might hear his teeth chatter: "They sayshe is very beautiful. Tell me what she is like. "

"I am no judge of what men call beauty. As to her character, I believe Imay recommend that. She is good. "

He was sure that merriment twitched the corners of her lips, and he grewthoughtful. "Alexia. Is that not her Highness's name also?"

"Yes, Monsieur; we have the same names. " Her eyes fell, and she began tofinger the pages of the book. 

"I am rested now, " he said, with a sudden distrust. "I thank you. "

"Come, then, and I will show you the way to the gate. "

"I am sorry to have troubled you, " he said. 

She did not reply, and together they walked up the path. The plantswere dying, and the odor of decay hovered about them. Splashes of richvermilion crowned the treetops, leaves of gold, russet and faded greenrustled on the ground. The sun was gone behind the hills, the lake wastinted with salmon and dun, and Maurice (who honestly would have likedto run) was turning purple, not from atmospheric effect, but from thepartly congealed state of his blood. Already he was thinking that hisadventure had turned out rather well. It was but a simple task for a manof his imagination to construct a pretty romance, with a kingdom for abackground. A maid of honor, perhaps; no matter, he would find means forfuture communication. A glamour had fallen upon him. 

As to the girl, who had scarce spoken to a dozen young men in her life, she was comparing four faces; one of a visionary character of which shehad dreamed for ten years, and three which had recently entered into thesmall circle of her affairs. It was little pleasure to her to talk tothose bald diplomats, who were always saying what they did not mean, and meaning what they did not say. And the young officers in the palacenever presumed to address her unless spoken to. 

What a monotonous life it was! She was like a bird in a cage, everlonging for freedom, not of the air, but of impulse. To be permitted toyield to the impulses of the heart! What a delightful thought that was!But she, she seemed apart from all which was desirable to youth. Womencourtesied to her, men touched their hats; but homage was not what shewanted. To be free, that was all; to come and go at will; to laugh andto sing. But ever the specter of royal dignity walked beside her andheld her captive. 

She was to wed a man on whom she looked with indifference, but wed himshe must; it was written. A toy of ambition, she was neither more norless. Ah, to be as her maids, not royal, but free. Of the three newfaces one belonged to the man whom she was to wed; another was a tall, light-haired man whom she had seen from her carriage; the last walked byher side. And somehow, the visionary face, the faces of the man whomshe was to wed and the light-haired man suddenly grew indistinct. Sheglanced from the corner of her eyes at Maurice, but meeting his glance, in which lay something that caused her uneasiness, her gaze dropped tothe path. 

"I shall be pleased to tell her Highness that a stranger, who has notmet her, who does not even suspect her rebel spirit, desires to be herfriend. "

"O, Mademoiselle, " he cried in alarm, "that desire was expressed inconfidence. "

"I know it. It is for that very reason I wish her to know. Have no fear, Monsieur;" and she laughed without mirth. "Her Highness will not sendyou to prison. "

Close at hand Maurice discovered a cuirassier, who, on seeing them, saluted and stood attention. Maurice was puzzled. 

"Lieutenant, " said the girl, "Monsieur--Carewe?" turning to Maurice. 

"Yes, that is the name. "

"Well, then, Monsieur Carewe has met with an accident; please escorthim to the gate. I trust you will not suffer any inconvenience from thecold. Good evening, Monsieur Carewe. "

She retraced her steps down the path. The bulldog followed. Once helooked back at Maurice, and stopped as if undecided, then went on. Maurice stared at the figure of the girl until it vanished behind aclump of rose bushes. 

"Well, Monsieur Carewe!" said the Lieutenant, a broad smile under hismustache. 

"I beg your pardon, Lieutenant. May I ask you who she is?"

"What! You do not know?"

Maurice suddenly saw light. "Her Royal Highness?" blankly. 

"Her Royal Highness, God bless her!" cried the Lieutenant heartily. 

"Amen to that, " replied Maurice, his agitation visible even to theofficer. 

They arrived at the gate in silence. The cuirassier raised the bar, touched his helmet, and said, with something like an amused twinkle inhis eyes: "Would Monsieur like to borrow my helmet for a space?"

Maurice put up a hand to his water-soaked hair, and gave an ejaculationof dismay. He had forgotten all about his hat, which was by now, in-allprobabilities, at the bottom of the lake. 

"Curse the luck!" he said, in English. 

"Curse the want of it, I should say!" was the merry rejoinder, also inEnglish. 

Maurice threw back his head and laughed, and the cuirassier caught theinfection. 

"However, there is some compensation for the hat, " said the cuirassier, straightening his helmet. "You are the first stranger who has spokento her Highness this many a day. Did the dog take to your calves? Well, never mind; he has no teeth. It was only day before yesterday that theMarshal swore he'd have the dog shot. Poor dog! He is growing blind, too, or he'd never have risked his gums on the Marshal, who is allshins. If you will wait I will fetch you one of the archbishop's skullcaps. "

"Don't trouble yourself, " laughed Maurice. "What I need is not a hat, but a towel, and I'll get that at the hotel. George! I feel so like anass. What is your name, Lieutenant?"

"Von Mitter, Carl von Mitter, at your service. And you are MonsieurCarewe. "

"Of the American legation in Vienna. Thanks for your trouble. "

"None at all. You had better hurry along; your nails are growing black. "

Maurice passed into the street. "Her Royal Highness!" he muttered. "The crown princess, and I never suspected. Her name is Alexia, and sheserves the princess whenever she can! Maurice, you are an ass!"

Having arrived at this conclusion, and brushing the dank hair from hiseyes, he thrust his hands into his oozing pockets, and proceededacross the square toward the Continental, wondering if there was a rearentrance. Happily the adventure absorbed all his thoughts. He was quiteunobservant of the marked attention bestowed on him. Carriages filledthe Strasse, and many persons moved along the walks. It was thepromenade hour. The water, which still dripped from his clothes andtrickled from his shoes, left a conspicuous trail behind; and thisalone, without the absence of a hat, would have made him the object ofamused and wondering smiles. 

A gendarme stared at him, but seeing that he walked straight, saidnothing. Maurice, however, was serenely unaware of what was passingaround him. He did not notice even the tall, broad-shouldered man who, with a gun under his arm, brushed past him, followed by a round-facedGerman over whose back was slung a game-bag. The man with the gun wasalso oblivious of his surroundings. He bumped into several persons, who scowled at him, but offered no remonstrance after having taken hismeasure. The German put his pipe into his pocket and advanced a step. 

"The other gun, Herr, " he said, "would have meant the boar. "

"So it would, perhaps, " was the reply. 

"We've done pretty good work these two days, " went on the German; butas the other appeared not to have heard he fell to the rear again, asardonic smile flitting over his oily face. 

When Maurice reached the hotel cafe he left an order for a cognac tobe sent to his room, whither he repaired at once. As he got into dryclothes he mused. 

"I wonder what sort of a man that crown prince is? Now, if I were he, an army could not keep me away from Bleiberg. Either he is no judgeof beauty, or the peasant girls hereabout are something extraordinary. Pshaw! a man always makes an ass of himself on his wedding eve; thecrown prince is simply starting in early. I believe I'll hang on heretill the wedding day; a royal marriage is one of those things which Ihave yet to see. I have a fortnight or more to knock around in. I shouldlike to know what the duchess will eventually do. "

He sipped the last drop of the cognac and went down the stairs. 

CHAPTER V. BEHIND THE PUPPET BOOTH

While the absent-minded hunter strode down toward the lower town, andMaurice sipped his cognac, the king lay in his bed in the palace andaimlessly fingered the counterpane. There was now no beauty in his face. It was furrowed and pale, and an endless fever burned in the sunkeneyes--eyes like coals, which suddenly flare before they turn to ash. 

The archbishop nor the chancellor could see anything in the dim cornersof the royal bed chamber, but he could. It was the mocking finger ofdeath, and it was leveled at him. Spring had come, and summer and autumnand winter, and spring again, but he had not wandered through the greenfields, except in dreams, and the byways he loved knew him no more. Ah, to sit still like a spectator and to see the world pass by! To be a partof it, and yet not of it! To see the glory of strength and vigor justbeyond one's grasp, the staffs to lean on crumble to the touch, and thestars of hope fade away one by one from the firmament of one's dreams!Here was weariness for which there was no remedy. 

Day by day time pressed him on toward the inevitable. No human handcould stay him. He could think, but he could not act. He could move, buthe could not stand nor walk. And that philosophy which had in other dayssustained him was shattered and threadbare. He was dead, yet he lived. Fate has so many delicate ironies. 

He had tried to make his people love him, only to acquire their hate. He had reduced taxation, only to be scorned. He had made the citybeautiful, only to be cursed. A paralytic, the theme of ribald verse, the butt of wineroom wits, the object of contumely to his people, hisbeneficiaries!

The ingratitude of kings bites not half so deep as the ingratitude ofthe people. Tears filled his eyes, and he fumbled his lips. There wereonly two bright spots in his futile life. The first was his daughter, who read to him, who was the first in the morning to greet him andlast at night to leave him. The second was the evening hour when thearchbishop and the chancellor came in to discuss the affairs of state. 

"And Prince Frederick has not yet been heard from?" was his firstinquiry. 

"No, Sire, " answered the chancellor. "The matter is altogethermysterious. The police can find no trace of him. He left Carnavia forBleiberg; he stopped at Ehrenstein, directed his suite to proceed;there, all ends. The ambassador from Carnavia approached me to-day. Hescouts the idea of a peasant girl, and hinted at other things. "

"Yes, " said the king, "there is something behind all this. Frederick isnot a youth of peccadilloes. Something has happened to him. But God sendhim safe and sound to us, so much depends on him. And Alexia?"

"Says nothing, " the archbishop answered, "a way with her when troubled. "

"And my old friend, Lord Fitzgerald?"

The prelate shook his head sadly. "We have just been made acquaintedwith his death. God rest his kindly soul. "

The king sank deeper into his pillows. 

"But we shall hear from his son within a few days, " continued theprelate, taking the king's hand in his own. "My son, cease to worry. Alexia's future is in good hands. I have confidence that the public debtwill be liquidated on the twentieth. "

"Or renewed, " said the chancellor. "Your Majesty must not forget thatPrince Frederick sacrifices his own private fortune to adjust ourindebtedness. That is the wedding gift which he offers to her Highness. One way or the other, we have nothing to fear. "

"O!" cried the king, "I had forgotten that magnanimity. Hisdisappearance is no longer a mystery. He is dead. "

His auditors could not repress the start which this declaration causedthem to make. 

"Sire, " said the chancellor, quietly, "princes are not assassinatedthese days. Our worry is perhaps all needless. The prince is young, andsometimes youth flings off the bridle and runs away. But he loves herHighness, and the Carnavians are not fickle. "

The prelate and the statesman had different ideas in regard to thepeasant girl. To the prelate a woman was an unknown quantity, and hefrowned. The statesman, who had once been young, knew a deal aboutwoman, and he smiled. 

"Sometimes, my friends, " said the king, "I can see beyond the humanglance. I hear the crumbling of walls. But for that lonely child I coulddie in peace. The crown I wear is of lead; God hasten the day that liftsit from my brow. " When the king spoke again, he said: "And that insolentVon Rumpf is gone at last? I am easier. He should have been sent abouthis business ten years ago. What does Madame the duchess say?"

"So little, " answered the chancellor, "that I begin to distrust hersilence. But she is a wise woman, though her years are but five andtwenty, and she will not make any foolish declaration of war which wouldonly redound to her chagrin. "

"What is the fascination in these crowns of straw?" said the king to theprelate. "Ah, my father, you strive for the crown to come; and yet yourearnest but misguided efforts placed this earthly one on my head. Youwere ambitious for me. "

"Nay, " and the prelate bent his head. "It was self that spoke, worldlyaggrandizement. I wished--God forgive me!--to administer not to theprince but to the king. I am punished. The crown has broken your life. It was the passing glory of the world; and I fell. "

"And were not my eyes as dazzled by the crown as yours were by therobes? Why did we leave the green hills of Osia? What destiny writes, fate must unfold. And oh, the dreams I had of being great! I amfifty-eight and you are seventy. And look; I am a broken twig, and youtower above me like an ancient oak, and as strong. " To the chancellor hesaid: "And what is the budget?"

"Sire, it is fairly quiet in the lower town. The native troops have beenpaid, and all signs of discontent abated. The duchess can do nothing butreplace von Rumpf. The Marshal is a straw in the wind; von Wallensteinand Mollendorf, I hold a sword above their necks. Nearly half theDiet is with us. There has been some strange meddling in the customs. Englishmen have brought me complaints, through the British legation, regarding such inspections as were never before heard of in a countryat peace. I consulted the chief inspector and he affirmed the matter. He was under orders of the minister of police. It appears to me thata certain Englishman is to be kept out of the country for reasons wellknown to us. I have suspended police power over the customs. Ah, Sire, if you would but agree with Monseigneur to dismiss the cabinet. "

"It is too late, " said the king. 

"There is only one flaw, " continued the chancellor. "This flaw isColonel Beauvais, chief in command of the cuirassiers, who in authoritystands between the Marshal and General Kronau. I fear him. Why?Instinct. He is too well informed of my projects for one thing; helaughs when I suggest in military affairs. Who is he? A Frenchman, ifone may trust to a name; an Austrian, if one may trust from whence hecame, recommended by the premier himself. He entered the cuirassiers asa Captain. You yourself, Sire, made him what he is--the real militaryadviser of the kingdom. But what of his past? No one knows, unless it bevon Wallenstein, his intimate. I, for one, while I may be wrong, trustonly those whose past I know, and even then only at intervals. "

"Colonel Beauvais?" murmured the king. "I am sure that you are unjustlysuspicious. How many times have I leaned on his stout arm! He taughtAlexia a thousand tricks of horse, so that to-day she rides as no otherwoman in the kingdom rides. Would that I stood half so straight andlooked at the world half so fearlessly. He is the first soldier in thekingdom. "

"All men are honest in your Majesty's eyes, " said the archbishop. 

"All save the man within me, " replied the king. 

At this juncture the king's old valet came in with the evening meal; andsoon after the prelate and the chancellor withdrew from the chamber. 

"How long will he live?" asked the latter. 

"A year; perhaps only till to-morrow. Ah, had he but listened to meseveral years ago, all this would not have come to pass. He wouldsee nothing; he persisted in dreams. With the death of Josef he wasconvinced that his enemies had ceased to be. Had he listened, I shouldhave dismissed the cabinet, and found enough young blood to answermy purposes; I should have surrounded him with a mercenary army twothousand strong; by now he should have stood strongly entrenched. 

"They have robbed him, but you and I were permitted to do nothing. Whereis the prosperity of which we formerly boasted? I, too, hear crumblingwalls. Yet, the son of this Englishman, whose strange freak is stillunaccountable, will come at the appointed time; I know the race. He willrenew the loan for another ten years. What a fancy! Lord Fitzgerald wasan eccentric man. Given a purpose, he pursued it to the end, neitherlove nor friendship, nor fear swerved him. Do you know that he madea vow that Duke Josef should never sit on this throne, nor hisdescendants? What were five millions to him, if in giving them herealized the end? The king would never explain the true cause of thisEnglishman's folly, but I know that it was based on revenge, the causeof which also is a mystery. If only the prince were here!"

"He will come; youth will be youth. "

"Perhaps. "

"You have never been young. "

"Not in that particular sense to which you refer, " dryly. 

* * * * * *

In the chamber of finance Colonel Beauvais leaned over the desk andperused the writing on a slip of paper which the minister had given him. Enough daylight remained to permit the letters to stand out legibly. When he had done the Colonel tossed back the missive, and the ministertore it into shreds and dropped them into the waste basket. 

"So much for your pains, " said Beauvais. "The spy, who has eaten up tenthousand crowns, is not worth his salt. He has watched this man Hamiltonfor two days, been his guide in the hills, and yet learns nothing. Andthe rigor of the customs is a farce. "

"This day, " replied the minister, "the police lost its jurisdiction overthe customs. Complaints have been entered at the British legation, whichforwarded them to the chancellor. "

"O ho!" The Colonel pulled his mustache. 

"I warned you against this. The chancellor is a man to be respected, whatever his beliefs. I warned you and Mollendorf of the police what theresult would be. The chancellor has a hard hand when it falls. He wasalways bold; now he is more so since he practically stands alone. Ingames of chance one always should play close. You are in a hurry. "

"I have waited six years. "

"And I have waited fourteen. "

"Well, then, I shall pass into the active. I shall watch this Englishmanmyself. He is likely to prove the agent. Count, the time for waitingis gone. If the debt is liquidated or renewed--and there is PrinceFrederick to keep in mind--we shall have played and lost. Disgrace foryou; for me--well, perhaps there is a power behind me too strong. The chancellor? Pouf! I have no fear of him. But you who laugh at thearchbishop--"

"He is too old. "

"So you say. But he has dreams unknown to us. He has ceased to act;why? He is waiting for the curtain to rise. Nothing escapes him; he isletting us go to what end we will, only, if we do not act at once, to draw us to a sudden halt. Now to this meddling Englishman: we haveoffered him a million--five millions for four. He laughs. He is amillionaire. With characteristic bombast he declares that money has nocharms. For six months, since his father's death, we have hounded him, in vain. It is something I can not understand. What is Leopold to theseEnglishmen that they risk a princely fortune to secure him his throne?Friendship? Bah, there is none. "

"Not in France nor in Austria. But this man was an Englishman; theyleave legacies of friendship. "

The Colonel walked to the window and looked down into the gardens. Heremained there for a time. Von Wallenstein eyed him curiously. Presentlythe soldier returned to his seat. 

"We are crossing a chasm; a man stands in our way; as we can not goaround him, we, being the stronger, push him aside. Eh?"

"You would not kill--" began the minister. 

"Let us use the French meaning of the word `suppress. ' And why not?Ambition, wherever it goes, leaves a trail of blood. What is a humanlife in this game we play? A leaf, a grain of sand. "

"But, since the prince promises to liquidate the debt, what matters itif the Englishman comes? It is all one and the same. "

"Within twenty, nay, within fifteen days, what may not happen?"

"You are ambitious, " said von Wallenstein, slyly. 

"And who is not?"

"Is a Marshal's baton so much, then, above your present position? Youare practically the head of the army. "

"A valiant army!" laughing; "five thousand men. Why, Madame the duchesshas six thousand and three batteries. "

"Her army of six thousand is an expedient; you can raise volunteers tothe amount of ten thousand. "

"To be sure I could; but supposing I did not want to?"

The minister dropped his gaze and began fingering the paper cutter. TheColonel's real purpose was still an enigma to him. "Come, you have theconfidence of the king, the friendship of her Royal Highness. What doyou gain in serving us? The baton?"

"You embarrass me. Questions? I should not like to lie to you. Batonswere fine things when Louises and Napoleons conferred them. I havethrown my dice into the common cup; let that be sufficient. "

"A man who comes from a noble house such as you come from--"

"Ah, count, that was never to be referred to. Be content with my brainand sword. And then, there is the old saying, Give a man an ell, andlook to your rod. We are all either jackals or lions, puppets or menbehind the booth. I am a lion. " He rose, drew his saber half-way fromthe scabbard, and sent it slithering back. "In a fortnight we put itto the touch to win or lose it all, as the poet says. Every man forhimself, and let the strongest win, say I. "

"You are playing two games, " coldly. 

"And you? Is it for pure love of Madame the duchess that you risk yourhead? Come, as you say; admit that you wish to see my hand withoutshowing yours. A baton is not much for me, as you have hinted, but it isall that was promised me. And you, if we win, will still be minister offinances? What is that maggot I see behind your eyes? Is it not spelled`chancellor'? But, remember, Madame has friends to take care of inthe event of our success. We can not have all the spoils. To join thekingdom and the duchy will create new offices, to be sure, but we canhave only part of them. As to games, I shall, out of the kindness in myheart, tell you that I am not playing two, but three. Guess them if youcan. Next to the chancellorship is the embassy to Vienna, and an embassyto Paris is to be created. Madame is a superior woman. Who knows?" witha smile that caused the other to pale. 

"You are mad to dream of that. "

"As you say, I come of a noble house, " carelessly. 

"You are mad. "

"No, count, " the soldier replied. "I have what Balzac calls a thirst fora full life in a short space. "

"I would give a deal to read what is going on in that head of yours. "

"Doubtless. But what is to become of our friends the Marshal andMollendorf? What will be left for them? Perhaps there will be a chamberof war, a chamber of the navy. As a naval minister the Marshal wouldbe nicely placed. There would be no expense of building ships or payingsailors, which would speak well for the economy of the new government. The Marshal is old; we shall send him to Servia. At least the officewill pay both his vanity and purse to an extent equal to that of hispresent office. By the way, nothing has yet been heard from PrinceFrederick. Ah, these young men, these plump peasant girls!"

Both laughed. 

"Till this evening, then;" and the Colonel went from the room. 

The minister of finance applied a match to the tapers. He held theburning match aloft and contemplated the door through which the soldierhad gone. The sting of the incipient flame aroused him. 

"What, " he mused aloud, as he arranged the papers on his desk, "is histhird game?"

"It appears to me, " said a voice from the wall behind, "that the samequestion arises in both our minds. "

The minister wheeled his chair, his mouth and brows puckered in dismay. From a secret panel in the wall there stepped forth a tall, thin, sour-visaged old man of military presence. He calmly sat down in thechair which Beauvais had vacated. 

"I had forgotten all about you, Marshal!" exclaimed the count, smilinguneasily. 

"A statement which I am most ready to believe, " replied old MarshalKampf, with a glance which caused the minister yet more uneasiness. "What impressed me among other things was, `But what is to become of ourfriends the Marshal and Mollendorf?' I am Marshal; I am about to riskall for nothing. Why should I not remain Marshal for the remainder ofmy days? It is a pleasant thing to go to Vienna once the year and towitness the maneuvers, with an honorary position on the emperor's staff. To be Marshal here is to hold a sinecure, yet it has its compensations. The uniforms, gray and gold, are handsome; it is an ostrich plume that Iwear in my chapeau de bras; the medals are of gold. My friend, it is thevanity of old age which forgives not. " And the Marshal, the bitteresttongue in all Bleiberg, reached over and picked up the cigar which layby the inkwells. He lit it at one of the tapers, and sank again into thechair. "Count, how many games are you playing?"

"My dear Marshal, it was not I who spoke of games. I am playing no game, save for the legitimate sovereign of this kingdom. I ask for no reward. "

"Disinterested man! The inference is, however, that, since you have notasked for anything, you have been promised something. Confess it, andhave done. "

"Marshal!"

"Well?"

"Is it possible that you suspect me?" The cold eyes grew colder, and thethin lips almost disappeared. 

"When three men watch each other as do Beauvais, Mollendorf and you, itis because each suspects the other of treachery. You haven't watchedme because I am old, but because I am old I have been watchingyou. Mollendorf aspires to greatness, you have your gaze on thechancellorship, and curse me if the Colonel isn't looking after my oldshoes! Am I to give up my uniform, my medals and my plume--for nothing?And who the devil is this man Beauvais, since that is not his name? Ishe a fine bird whose feathers have been plucked?"

The minister did not respond to the question; he began instead to fidgetin his chair. 

"When I gave my word to his Highness the duke, it was withoutconditions. I asked no favors; I considered it my duty. Let us come toan understanding. Material comfort is necessary to a man of my age. Fine phrases and a medal or two more do not count. I am, then, to go toServia. You were very kind to hide me in your cabinet. "

"It was to show you that I had no secrets from you, " quickly. 

"Let us pass on. Mollendorf is to go to Paris, where he will be anonentity, while in his present office he is a power in the land--Deviltake me, but it seems to me that we are all a pack of asses! Our gainswill not be commensurate with our losses. The navy? Well, we'll let thatpass; the Colonel, I see, loves a joke. "

"You forget our patriotism for the true house. "

"Why not give it its true name--self-interest?"

"Marshal, in heaven's name, what has stirred your bile?" The ministerwas losing his patience, a bad thing for him to do in the presence ofthe old warrior. 

"It is something I've been swallowing this past year. " The Marshaltipped the ash of his cigar into the waste basket. 

"Marshal, will you take the word not of the minister, but of the vonWallenstein, that whatever my reward shall be for my humble services, yours shall not be less?"

"Thanks, but I have asked for no reward. If I accepted gain for what Ido, I should not be too old to blush. "

"I do not understand. "

"Self-interest blinds us. I have nothing but pity for this king whoseonly crime is an archbishop; and I can not accept gain at his expense; Ishould blush for shame. Had I my way, he should die in peace. He hasnot long to live. The archbishop--well, we can not make kings, they areborn. But there is one thing more: Over all your schemes is the shadowof Austria. "

"Austria?"

"Yes. The Colonel speaks of a power behind him. Bismarck lookshungrily toward Schleswig-Holstein. Austria casts amorous eyes at us. A protectorate? We did not need it. It was forced on us. When Austriaassumed to dictate to us as to who should be king, she also robbed us ofour true independence. Twenty years ago there was no duchy; it was allone kingdom. Who created this duchy when Albrecht came on the throne?Austria. Why? If we live we shall read. " He rose, shook his lean legs. "I have been for the most part neutral. I shall remain neutral. There isan undercurrent on which you have failed to reckon. Austria, mistressof the confederation. There are two men whom you must watch. One is thearchbishop. "

"The archbishop?" The minister was surprised that the Marshal shouldconcur with the Colonel. "And the other?"

"Your friend the Colonel, " starting for the door. 

The minister smiled. "Will you not dine with me?" he asked. 

"Thanks. But I have the Servian minister on my hands to-night. A propos, tell the Colonel that I decline Belgrade. I prefer to die at home. " Andhe vanished. 

Von Wallenstein reviewed the statements of both his visitors. 

"I shall watch Monseigneur the archbishop. " Then he added, with ahalf-smile: "God save us if the Marshal's sword were half so sharp ashis tongue! It was careless of me to forget that I had shut him up inthe cabinet. "

Meanwhile Beauvais walked slowly toward his quarters, with his sabercaught up under his arm. Once he turned and gazed at the palace, whosewindows began to flash with light. 

"Yes, they are puppets and jackals, and I am the lion. For all thereshall serve my ends. I shall win, and when I do--" He laughed silently. "Well, I am a comely man, and Madame the duchess shall be my wife. "

CHAPTER VI. MADEMOISELLE OF THE VEIL

The public park at night was a revelation to Maurice, who, lonely andrestless, strolled over from the hotel in quest of innocent amusement. He was none the worse for his unintended bath; indeed, if anything, he was much the better for it. His imagination was excited. It was notevery day that a man could, at one and the same time, fall out of a boatand into the presence of a princess of royal blood. 

He tried to remember all he had said to her, but only two utterancesrecurred to him; yet these caused him an exhilaration like the bouquetof old wine. He had told her that she was beautiful, indirectly, it wastrue; she had accepted his friendship, also indirectly, it was true. Nowthe logical sequence of all this was--but he broke into a light laugh. What little vanity he possessed was without conceit. Princesses of royalblood were beyond the reach of logical sequence; and besides, she was tobe married on the twentieth of the month. 

He followed one of the paths which led to the pavilion. It was acharming scene, radiant with gas lamps, the vivid kaleidoscope of gownsand uniforms. Beautiful faces flashed past him. There were in the airthe vague essences of violet, rose and heliotrope. Sometimes he caughtthe echo of low laughter or the snatch of a gay song. The light ofthe lamps shot out on the crinkled surface of the lake in tongues ofquivering flame, which danced a brave gavot with the phantom stars; andafar twinkled the dipping oars. The brilliant pavilion, which restedpartly over land and partly over water, was thronged. 

The band was playing airs from the operas of the day, and Mauriceyielded to the spell of the romantic music. He leaned over the pavilionrail, and out of the blackness below he endeavored to conjure up theface of Nell (or was it Kate?) who had danced with him at the embassiesin Vienna, fenced and ridden with him, till--till--with a gesture ofimpatience he flung away the end of his cigar. 

Memory was altogether too elusive. It was neither Nell nor Kate hesaw smiling up at him, nor anybody else in the world but the PrincessAlexia, whose eyes were like wine in a sunset, whose lips were as redas the rose of Tours in France, and whose voice was sweeter than thatthrobbing up from the 'cello. If he thought much more of her, therewould be a logical sequence on his side. He laughed again--with aneffort--and settled back in his chair to renew his interest in thepanorama revolving around him. 

"They certainly know how to live in these countries, " he thought, "for all their comic operas. All I need, to have this fairy scene madecomplete, is a woman to talk to. By George, what's to hinder me fromfinding one?" he added, seized by the spirit of mischief. He turnedhis head this way and that. "Ah! doubtless there is the one I'm lookingfor. "

Seated alone at a table behind him was a woman dressed in gray. Herback was toward him, but he lost none of the beautiful contours of herfigure. She wore a gray alpine hat, below the rim of which rebelliouslittle curls escaped, curls of a fine red-brown, which, as they trailedto the nape of the firm white neck, lightened into a ruddy gold. Herdelicate head was turned aside, and to all appearances her gaze wasdirected to the entrance to the pavilion. A heavy blue veil completelyobscured her features; though Maurice could see a rose-tinted ear andthe shadow of a curving chin and throat, which promised much. To a manthere is always a mystery lurking behind a veil. So he rose, walked pasther, returned and deliberately sat down in the chair opposite to hers. The fact that gendarmes moved among the crowd did not disturb him. 

"Good evening, Mademoiselle, " he said, politely lifting his hat. 

She straightened haughtily. "Monsieur, " she said, resentment, consternation and indignation struggling to predominate in her tones, "Idid not give you permission to sit down. You are impertinent!"

"O, no, " Maurice declared. "I am not impertinent. I am lonesome. In allBleiberg I haven't a soul to talk to, excepting the hotel waiters, andthey are uninteresting. Grant me the privilege of conversing with youfor a moment. We shall never meet again; and I should not know you if wedid. Whether you are old or young, plain or beautiful, it matters not. My only wish is to talk to a woman, to hear a woman's voice. "

"Shall I call a gendarme, Monsieur, and have him search for your nurse?"The attitude which accompanied these words was anything but assuring. 

He, however, evinced no alarm. He even laughed. "That was good! We shallget along finely, I am sure. "

"Monsieur, " she said, rising, "I repeat that I do not desire yourcompany, nor to remain in the presence of your unspeakable effrontery. "

"I beseech you!" implored Maurice, also rising. "I am a foreigner, lonesome, unhappy, thousands of miles from home--"

"You are English?" suddenly. She stood with the knuckle of herforefinger on her lips as if meditating. She sat down. 

Maurice, greatly surprised, also sat down. 

"English?" he repeated. His thought was: "What the deuce! This is thethird time I have been asked that. Who is this gay Lothario the womenseem to be expecting?" To her he continued: "And why do you ask methat?"

"Perhaps it is your accent. And what do you wish to say to me, Monsieur?" It was a voice of quality; all the anger had gone from it. She leaned on her elbows, her chin in her palms, and through the veilhe caught the sparkle of a pair of wonderful eyes. "Let us converse inEnglish, " she added. "It is so long since I have had occasion to speakin that tongue. " She repeated her question. 

"O, I had no definite plan outlined, " he answered; "just generalities, with the salt of repartee to season. " He pondered over this suddentransition from wrath to mildness. An Englishman? Very well; it mightgrow interesting. 

"Is it customary among the English to request to speak to strangerswithout the usual formalities of an introduction?"

"I can not say that it is, " he answered truthfully enough; "but theprocedure is never without a certain charm and excitement. "

"Ah; then you were led to address me merely by the love of adventure?"

"That is it; the love of adventure. I should not have spoken to you hadyou not worn the veil. " He remarked that her English was excellent. 

"You differ from the average Englishman, who is usually wrapt upin himself and has no desire to talk to strangers. You have been asoldier. "

The evolutions of his cane ceased. "How in the world did you guessthat?" surprised beyond measure. 

"Perhaps there is something suggestive in your shoulders. "

He tried to peer behind the veil, but in vain. "Am I speaking to one Ihave met before?"

"I believe not; indeed, sir, I am positive. "

"I have been a soldier, but my shoulders did not tell you that. "

"Perhaps I have the gift of clairvoyance, " gazing again toward theentrance. 

"Or perhaps you have been to Vienna. "

"Who knows? Most Englishmen are, or have been, soldiers. "

"That is true. " Inwardly, "There's my friend the Englishman again. She'sguessing closer than she knows. Curious; she has mistaken me for someone she does not know, if that is possible. " He was somewhat in ahaze. "Well, you have remarkable eyes. However, let us talk of a moreinteresting subject; for instance, yourself. You, too, love adventure, that is, if I interpret the veil rightly. "

"Yes; I like to see without being seen. But, of course, behind this loveof adventure which you possess, there is an important mission. "

"Ah!" he thought; "you are not quite sure of me. " Aloud, "Yes, I camehere to witness the comic opera. "

"The comic opera? I do not understand?"

"I believed there was going to be trouble between the duchy and thekingdom, but unfortunately the prima donna has refused the part. "

"The prima donna!" in a muffled voice. "Whom do you mean?"

"Son Altesse la Grande Duchesse! 'Voici le sabre de mon pere!'" And hewhistled a bar from Offenbach, his eyes dancing. 

"Sir!--I!--you do wrong to laugh at us!" a flash from the half-hiddeneyes. 

"Forgive me if I have offended you, but I--"

"Ah, sir, but you who live in a powerful country think we little folkhave no hearts, that we have no wrongs to redress, no dreams of conquestand of power. You are wrong. "

"And whose side do you defend?"

"I am a woman, " was the equivocal answer. 

"Which means that you are uncertain. "

"I have long ago made up my mind. "

"Wonderful! I always thought a woman's mind was like a time-table, subject to change without notice. So you have made up your mind?"

"I was born with its purpose defined, " coldly. 

"Ah, now I begin to doubt. "

"What?" with a still lower degree of warmth. 

"That you are a woman. Only goddesses do not change theirminds--sometimes. Well, then you are on the weaker side. "

"Or the stronger, since there are two sides. "

"And the stronger?" persistently. 

"The side which is not the weaker. But the subject is what you Englishcall 'taboo. ' It is treading on delicate ground to talk politics in theopen--especially in Bleiberg. "

"What a diplomat you would make!" he cried with enthusiasm. Certainlythis was a red-letter day in his calendar. This adventure almostequalled the other, and, besides, in this instance, his skin was dry; hecould enjoy it more thoroughly. Who could this unknown be? "If only youunderstood the mystery with which you have enshrouded yourself!"

"I do. " She drew the veil more firmly about her chin. 

"Grant me a favor. "

"I am talking to you, sir. "

This candor did not disturb him. "The favor I ask is that you will liftthe corner of your veil; otherwise you will haunt me. "

"I am doomed to haunt you, then. If I should lift the corner of my veilsomething terrible would happen. "

"What! Are you as beautiful as that?"

There was a flash of teeth behind the veil, followed by the ripple ofsoft laughter. "It is difficult to believe you to be English. You aremore like one of those absurd Americans. "

Maurice did not like the adjective. "I am one of them, " wondering whatthe effect of this admission would be. "I am not English, but of thebrother race. Forgive me if I have imposed on you, but it was yourfault. You said that I was English, and I was too lonesome to enlightenyou. "

"You are an American?" She began to tap her gloved fingers against thetable. 

"Yes. "

Then, to his astonishment, she gave way to laughter, honest and hearty. "How dense of me not to have known the moment you addressed me! Whobut the American holds in scorn custom's formalities and usages? Yourgrammar is good, so good that my mistake is pardonable. The American isalways like the terrible infant; and you are a choice example. "

Maurice was not so pleased as he might have been. His ears burned. Still, he went forward bravely. "A man never pretends to be anEnglishman without getting into trouble. "

"I did not ask to speak to you. No one ever pretends to be an American. Why is it you are always ashamed of your country?" with maliceaforethought. 

Maurice experienced the sting of many bees. "I see that your experienceis limited to impostors. I, Mademoiselle, am proud of my country, thegreat, free land which stands aside from the turmoil and laughs at yourpetty squabbles, your kings, your princes. Laugh at me; I deserve it fornot minding my own business, but do not laugh at my country. " His facewas flushed; he was almost angry. It was not her words; it was thecontempt with which she had invested them. But immediately he wasashamed of his outburst. "Ah, Mademoiselle, you have tricked me; youhave found the vulnerable part in my armor. I have spoken like a child. Permit me to apologize for my apparent lack of breeding. " He rose, bowed, and made as though to depart. 

"Sit down, Monsieur, " she said, picking up her French again. "I forgiveyou. I do more; I admire. I see that your freak had nothing behind itbut mischief. No woman need fear a man who colors when his country ismade the subject of a jest. "

All his anger evaporated. This was an invitation, and he accepted it. Heresumed his seat. 

"The truth is, as I remarked, I was lonesome. I know that I havecommitted a transgression, but the veil tempted me. "

"It is of no matter. A few moments, and you will be gone. I am waitingfor some one. You may talk till that person comes. " Her voice was nowin its natural tone; and he was convinced that if her face were halfas sweet, she must possess rare beauty. "Hush!" as the band began tobreathe forth Chopin's polonaise. They listened until the music ceased. 

"Ah!" said he rapturously, "the polonaise! When you hear it, does therenot recur to you some dream of bygone happy hours, the sibilant murmurof fragrant night winds through the crisp foliage, the faint callof Diana's horn from the woodlands, moon-fairies dancing on thespider-webs, the glint of the dew on the roses, the far-off music of thesurges tossing impotently on the sands, the forgetfulness of time andplace and care, and not a cloud 'twixt you and the heavens? Ah, thepolonaise!"

"Surely you must be a poet!" declared the Veil, when this panegyric wasdone. 

"No, " said he modestly, "I never was quite poor enough for that exaltedposition. " He had recovered his good humor. 

"Indeed, you begin to interest me. What is your occupation when not insearch of--comic operas?"

"I serve Ananias. "

"Ananias?" A pause. "Ah, you are a diplomat?"

"How clever of you to guess. "

"Yours is a careless country, " observed the Veil. 

"Careless?" mystified. 

"Yes, to send forth her green and salad youth. Eh, bien! There arehopes for you. If you live you will grow old; you will become bald andreserved; you will not speak to strangers, to while away an idle hour;for permit me, Monsieur, who am wise, to tell you that it is a dangerouspractice. "

"And do I look so very young?"

"Your beard is that of a boy. "

"David slew Goliath. "

"At least you have a ready tongue, " laughing. 

"And you told me that I had been a soldier. "

But to this she had nothing to say. 

"I am older than you think, Mademoiselle of the Veil. I have been asoldier; I have seen hard service, too. Mine is no cushion sword. Youth?'Tis a virtue, not a crime; and, besides, it is an excellent disguise. "

For some time she remained pensive. 

"You are thinking of something, Mademoiselle. "

"Do you like adventure?"

"I subsist on it. "

"You have been a soldier; you are, then, familiar with the use of arms?"

"They tell me so, " modestly. What was coming?

"I have some influence. May I trust you?"

"On my honor, " puzzled, yet eager. 

"There may be a comic opera, as you call it. War is not so impossible asto be laughed at. The dove may fly away and the ravens come. "

"Who in thunder might this woman be?" he thought. 

"And, " went on the Veil, "an extra saber might be used. Give me youraddress, in case I should find it necessary to send for you. "

Now Maurice was a wary youth. Under ordinary circumstances he would havegiven a fictitious address to this strange sybil with the prophecy ofwar; for he had accosted her only in the spirit of fun. But here was thekey which he had been seeking, the key to all that had brought him toBleiberg. Intrigue, adventure, or whatever it was, and to whatever end, he plunged into it. He drew out a card case, selected a card on which hewrote "Room 12, Continental, " and passed it over the table. She read it, and slipped it into her purse. 

Maurice thought: "Who wouldn't join the army with such recruitingofficers?"

While the pantomime took place, a man pushed by Maurice's chair andcrossed over to the table recently occupied by him. He sat down, lita short pipe, rested his feet on the lowest rung of the ladder-likerailing, and contemplated the western hills, which by now were envelopedin moon mists. Neither Maurice nor his mysterious vis-a-vis remarkedhim. Indeed, his broad back afforded but small attraction. And if hepuffed his pipe fiercely, nobody cared, since the breeze carried thesmoke waterward. 

After putting the card into her purse, Mademoiselle of the Veil's gazeonce more wandered toward the entrance, and this time it grew fixed. Maurice naturally followed it, and he saw a tall soldier in fatiguedress elbowing his way through the crush. Many moved aside for him;those in uniform saluted. 

"Monsieur, " came from behind the veil, "you may go now. I dismiss you. If I have need of you I promise to send for you. "

He stood up. "I thank you for the entertainment and the promise youextend. I shall be easily found, " committing himself to nothing. "Isuppose you are a person of importance in affairs. "

"It is not unlikely. I see that you love adventure for its own sake, for you have not asked me if it be the duchy or the kingdom. Adieu, Monsieur, " with a careless wave of the gray-gloved hand. "Adieu!"

He took his dismissal heroically and shot a final glance at theapproaching soldier. His brows came together. 

"Where, " he murmured, "have I seen that picturesque countenance before?Not in Europe; but where?" He caught the arm of a passing gendarme. "Whois that gentleman in fatigue uniform, coming this way?"

"That, Monsieur, " answered the gendarme in tones not unmixed with awe, "is Colonel Beauvais of the royal cuirassiers. "

"Thanks. .. . Beauvais; I do not remember the name. Truly I have hadexperiences to-day. And for what house is Mademoiselle of the Veil?Ravens? War? `Voici le sabre de mon pyre!'" and with a gay laugh he wenthis way. 

Meanwhile Colonel Beauvais arrived at the table, tipped his hat to theVeil, who rose and laid a hand on his arm. He guided her through thepressing crowds. 

"Ah, Madame, " he said, "you are very brave to choose such a rendezvous. "

"Danger is a tonic to the ill-spirited, " was the reply. 

"If aught should happen to you--"

"It was in accord with her wishes that I am here. She suffers fromimpatience; and I would risk much to satisfy her whims. "

"So would I, Madame; even life. " There was a tremor of passion in hisvoice, but she appeared not to notice it. "Here is a nook out of thelights; we may talk here with safety. "

"And what is the news?" she asked. 

"This: The man remains still in obscurity. But he shall be found. Listen, " and his voice fell into a whisper. 

"Austria?" Mademoiselle of the Veil pressed her hands together inexcitement. "Is it true?"

"Did I not promise you? It is so true that the end is in sight. Conspiracy is talked openly in the streets, in the cafes, everywhere. The Osians will be sand in the face of a tidal wave. A word from me, and Kronau follows it. It all would be so easy were it not for thearchbishop. "

"The archbishop?" contemptuously. 

"Ay, Madame; he is a man so deep, with a mind so abyssmal, that I wouldgive ten years of my life for a flash of his thoughts. He has someproject; apparently he gives his whole time to the king. He loves thisweak man Leopold; he has sacrificed the red hat for him, for thehat would have taken him to Italy, as we who procured it intended itshould. "

"The archbishop? Trust me; one month from now he will be recalled. Thatis the news I have for you. "

"You have taken a weight from my mind. What do you think in regard tothe rumor of the prince and the peasant girl?"

"It afforded me much amusement. You are a man of fine inventions. "

"Gaze toward the upper end of the pavilion, the end which we havejust left. Yes--there. I am having the owner of those broad shoulderswatched. That gendarme leaning against the pillar follows him whereverhe goes. "

"Who is he?"

"That I am trying to ascertain. This much--he is an Englishman. "

Mademoiselle of the Veil laughed. "Pardon my irrelevancy, but theremembrance of a recent adventure of mine was too strong. "

Maurice could not regain his interest in the scene. He strolled in andout of the moving groups, but no bright eyes or winning smiles alluredhim. Impelled by curiosity, he began to draw near the shadowed nook. Curiosity in a journalist is innate, and time nor change can effaceit. Curiosity in those things which do not concern us is wrong. Ethicsdisavows the practice, though philosophy sustains it. Perhaps in thisinstance Maurice was philosophical, not ethical. Perhaps he wantedto hear the woman's voice again, which was excusable. Perhaps it wasneither the one nor the other, but fate, which directed his footsteps. Certain it is that the subsequent adventures would never have happenedhad he gone about his business, as he should have done. 

"Who is this who stares at us?" asked Beauvais, with a piercing glanceand a startled movement of his shoulders. 

"A disciple of Pallas and a pupil of Mars, " was the answer. "I have beenrecruiting, Colonel. There is sharpness sometimes in new blades. Do notdraw him with your eyes. "

The Colonel continued his scrutiny, however, and there was an uglydroop at the corners of his mouth, though it was partly hidden under hismustache. 

Maurice, aware that he was not wanted, passed along, having in mind toregain his former seat by the railing. 

"Colonel, " he mused, "your face grows more familiar every moment. It wasnot associated with agreeable things. But, what were they? Hang it! youshall have a place in my thoughts till I have successfully labeled you. Humph! Some one seems to have appropriated my seat. "

He viewed with indecision the broad back of the interloper, who at thatmoment turned his head. At the sight of that bronzed profile Mauricegave an exclamation of surprise and delight. He stepped forward anddropped his hand on the stranger's shoulder. 

"John Fitzgerald, or henceforth garlic shall be my salad!" he cried inloud, exultant tones. 

CHAPTER VII. SOME DIALOGUE, A SPRAINED ANKLE, AND SOME SOLDIERS

The stranger returned Maurice's salute with open-mouthed dismay; themonocle fell from his eye, he grasped the table with one hand andpushed back the chair with the other, while Maurice heard the name of anexceedingly warm place. 

The gendarme, who was leaning against the pillar, straightened, openedhis jaws, snapped them, and hurried off. 

"Maurice--Maurice Carewe?" said the bewildered Englishman. 

"No one else, though I must say you do not seem very glad to see me, "Maurice answered, conscious that he was all things but welcome. 

"Hang you, I'm not!" incogitantly. 

"Go to the devil, then!" cried Maurice, hotly. 

"Gently, " said Fitzgerald, catching Maurice by the coat and pulling himdown into a chair. "Confound you, could you not have made yourself knownto me without yelling my name at the top of your voice?"

"Are you ashamed of it?" asked Maurice, loosing his coat fromFitzgerald's grip. 

"I'm afraid of it, " the Englishman admitted, in a lowered voice. "Andyour manly, resonant tones have cast it abroad. I am here incognito. "

"Who the deuce are you?"

"I am Don Jahpet of Armenia; that is to say that I am a marked man. Andnow, as you would inelegantly express it, you have put a tag on me. WhenI left you in Vienna the other day I lied to you. I am sorry. I shouldhave trusted you, only I did not wish you to risk your life. You wouldhave insisted on coming along. "

"Risked my life?" echoed Maurice. "How many times have I not riskedit? By the way, " impressed by a sudden thought, "are you the Englishmanevery one seems to be expecting?"

"Yes. " Fitzgerald knocked his pipe against the railing. "I am the man. Worse luck! Was any one near when you called me by name?"

"Only one of those wooden gendarmes. "

"Only one of those wooden gendarmes!" ironically. "Only one of thosedogs who have been at my heels ever since I arrived. And he, havingheard, has gone back to his master. Well, since you have started theball rolling, it is no more than fair that you should see the game toits end. "

"What's it all about?" asked Maurice, his astonishment growing andgrowing. 

"Where are your rooms?"

"You have something important to tell me?"

"Perhaps you may think so. At the Continental? Come along. "

They passed out of the pavilion, along the path to the square, thence tothe terrace of the Continental, which they mounted. Not a word was said, but Maurice was visibly excited, and by constant gnawing ruined hiscigar. He conducted his friend to the room on the second floor, thewindow of which opened on a private balcony. Here he placed two chairsand a small table; and with a bottle of tokayer between them they seatedthemselves. 

"What's it all about?"

"O, only a crown and a few millions in money. "

"Only a crown and a few millions in money, " repeated Maurice veryslowly, for his mind could scarcely accept Fitzgerald and these twogreatest treasures on earth. 

A gendarme had leisurely followed them from the park. He took aside aporter and quietly plied him with questions. Evidently the answers weresatisfactory, for he at once departed. 

Maurice stared at the Englishman. 

"Knocks you up a bit, eh?" said Fitzgerald. "Well, I am rather surprisedmyself; that is to say, I was. "

"Fire away, " said Maurice. 

"To begin with, if I do not see the king to-morrow, it is not likelythat I ever shall. "

"The king?"

"My business here is with his Majesty. "

Maurice filled the glasses and pushed one across the table. 

"Here's!" said he, and gulped. 

Fitzgerald drank slowly, however, as if arranging in his mind thesalient points in his forthcoming narrative. 

"I have never been an extraordinarily communicative man; what I shalltell you is known only to my former Colonel and myself. At Calcutta, where you and I first met, I was but a Lieutenant in her Majesty's. To-day I am burdened with riches such as I know not how to use, andpossessor of a title which sounds strange in my ears. "

The dim light from the gas-jet in the room flickered over his face, andMaurice saw that it was slightly contorted, as if by pain. 

"My father was Lord Fitzgerald. "

"What!" cried Maurice, "the diplomat, the historian, the millionaire?"

"The same. Thirteen years ago we parted--a misunderstanding. I never sawhim again. Six months ago he died and left me a fortune, a title and astrange legacy; and it is this legacy which brings me to Bleiberg. Doyou know the history of Leopold?"

"I do. This throne belongs to the house of Auersperg, and the Osianusurps. The fact that the minister of the duchess has been discreditedwas what brought me here. Continue. "

And Fitzgerald proceeded briefly to acquaint the other with the strangecaprice of his father; how, when he left Bleiberg, he had been waylaidand the certificates demanded; how he had entrusted them to his valet, who had gone by another route; how the duke had sought him in Vienna andmade offers, bribes and threats; how he had laughed at all, and swornthat Duke Josef should never be a king. 

"My father wished to save Leopold in spite of himself; and then, he hadno love for Josef. At a dinner given at the legation, there was amongothers a toast to her Majesty. The duke laughed and tossed the wineto the floor. It lost him his crown, for my father never forgavethe insult. When the duke died, his daughter took up the work withsurprising vigor. It was all useless; father was a rock, and wouldlisten neither to bribes nor threats. Now they are after me. They havehunted me in India, London, and Vienna. I am an obscure soldier, withall my titles and riches; they threaten me with death. But I am here, and my father's wishes shall be carried out. That is all. I am glad thatwe have come together; you have more invention than I have. "

"But why did you come yourself? You could have sent an agent. That wouldhave been simple. "

"An agent might be bought. It was necessary for me to come. However, I might have waited till the twentieth. I should have come openly andinformed the British minister of my mission. As to the pheasants, theycould have waited. Perhaps my fears are without foundation, unless youhave been the unconscious cause of my true name being known. Every onehas heard the story. It is known as 'Fitzgerald's folly, ' and has gonethe rounds of the diplomatic circles for ten years. I shall ask for anaudience to-morrow morning. "

"And these certificates fall due the same day that the princess is to bemarried, " mused his auditor. "What a yarn for the papers!" his love ofsensation being always close to the surface. "Your father, you say, tookfour million crowns; what became of the fifth?"

"The duke was permitted to secure that. "

"A kind of court plaster for his wounds, eh? Why don't you get thatother million and run the kingdom yourself? It's a great opportunity. "Maurice laughed. 

"Her Royal Highness must not be forgotten. My father thought much ofher. "

"But really I do not see why you are putting yourself to all thistrouble. The king will pay off the indebtedness; the kingdom is said tobe rich, or Austria wouldn't meddle with it. "

"The king, on the twentieth of this month, will be some three millionsshort. "

"And since he can not pay he is bankrupt. Ah, I see the plan. The dukeknew that he wouldn't be able to pay. "

"You have hit it squarely. "

"But Austria, having placed Leopold here, is his sponsor. "

"Austria has too many debts of her own; she will have to disavow herprotege, which is a fact not unthought of by the house of Auersperg. By constant machination and intrigue the king's revenues have been sodepleted that ordinary debts are troublesome. The archbishop, to staveoff the probable end, brought about the alliance between the housesof Carnavia and Osia. My business here is to arrange for a ten years'renewal of the loan, and that is what the duchess wishes to prevent, monami. What's to become of the king and his daughter if aught in the wayof mishap should befall me? I have not seen the king, but I have seenher Royal Highness. "

"What is she like?" Maurice asked, innocently. He saw no reason why heshould confide to the Englishman his own adventure. 

"I'm not much of a judge, " said Fitzgerald cautiously. "I have livedmost of my life in cantonments where women were old and ran mostly totongue. I should say that she is beautiful. " A short sigh followed thisadmission. 

"Ah!" said Maurice with a loud laugh to cover the sudden pang ofjealousy which seized him; "in gratitude for saving her father's thronethe daughter will fall in love with you. It is what the dramatist callslogical sequence. "

"Why don't you write novels? Your imagination has no bounds. "

"Writing novels is too much like work. But I'm serious. Your position inthe world to-day is nearly equal to hers, and certainly more secure. Ah, yes; I must not forget that prince. He's a lucky dog--and so are you, for that matter. Millions and titles! And I have slapped you cavalierlyon the back, smoked your cigars, drunk your whisky, and beaten you atpoker!" comically. 

"Ah, Maurice, it is neither wealth nor titles; it is freedom. I am likea boy out of school for good and all. Women, the society of women, whoare the salt of earth; that is what I want. I have knocked out thirteenyears of my life in furnace holes, and have not met nor spoken to adozen young women in all that time. How I envy you! You know everyone; you have seen the world; you are at home in Paris, or London, orVienna; you have enjoyed all I wish to enjoy. "

"Why did you ever get into the army?"

"You ought to know. "

"But it was bread and butter to me. "

"Well, I was young; I saw fame and glory. If the matter under hand isclosed to-morrow, what do you say to the Carpathians and bears? I shallnot remain here; some one will be looking for blood. What do you say?"

"I don't know, " said Maurice, thoughtfully. He was thinking ofMademoiselle of the Veil and her prophecy of ravens. "I don't know thatI shall be able. It is my opinion that your part in the affair is onlya curtain-raiser to graver things. Every one of importance in town goesabout with an air of expectancy. I never saw anything like it. It is theking, the archbishop and the chancellor against two hundred thousand. You're a soldier; can't you smell powder?"

"Powder! You do not believe the duchess mad enough to wage war?"

"Trust a woman to do what no one dreams she will. "

"But Austria would be about her ears in a minute!"

"Maybe. Have you seen this Colonel Beauvais of the royal cuirassiers, the actual head of the army here?"

"A fine soldier, " said the Englishman, heartily. "Rides like a centaurand wields a saber as if it were a piece of straw. "

"I can hold a pretty good blade myself; I've an idea that I can lick himat both games. "

Fitzgerald laughed good-naturedly. "There is the one flaw in yourmake-up. I admit your horsemanship; but the saber! Believe me, it isonly the constant practice and a wrist of iron which make the saberformidable. You are more familiar with the pen; I dare say you couldbest him at that. "

"What makes you think I can not lick him?"

"Since when have the saber and the civilian been on terms? And thesecontinental sabers are matchless, the finest in the world. I trust youwill steer clear of the Colonel; if you have any challenge in mind, spring it on me, and I'll let you down easy. " Then: "Why the devil doyou want to lick him, anyway?"

"I don't know, " said Maurice. "I had a close range to-night, and somehowthe man went against the grain. Well, Jack, I'll stay with you in thisaffair, though, as the county judge at home would say, it's out of mycircuit. "

They shook hands across the table. 

"Come, " said Fitzgerald; "a toast, for I must be off. "

"What do you say to her Royal Highness?"

"Let us make it general: to all women!"

They set down the glasses and shook hands again. 

"It seemed good to run across you in Vienna, Maurice. You were one ofthe bright spots in the old days. "

"Do you want me to walk with you to the Grand? It's a fine night, " saidMaurice, waving his hand toward the moon. "By George, what a beautifulplace this end of Bleiberg is! I do not wonder that the duchess covetsit. "

"No, I'll go alone. All I have to do is to march straight up theStrasse. "

"Well, good-night and good luck to you, " said Maurice, as he led theEnglishman into the hallway. "Look me up when you have settled thebusiness. I say, but it gets me; it's the strangest thing I ever heard. "And he waited till the soldierly form disappeared below the landing. 

Then he went back to his chair on the balcony to think it over. At fouro'clock that afternoon he had grumbled of dullness. He lit a pipe, and contemplated the soft and delicate blues of earth and heaven, thesilvery flashes on the lake, and the slim violet threads of smokewhich wavered about his head. It was late. Now and then the sound of agalloping horse was borne up by the breeze, and presently Mauriceheard the midnight bell boom forth from the sleepy spires of thecathedral--where the princess was to be married. 

One by one the lamps of the park went out, but the moon shone on, lustrous and splendid. First he reviewed his odd adventure in thearchbishop's gardens. He had spoken to princesses before, but they werewomen of the world, hothouse roses that bloom and wither in a shortspace. The atmosphere which surrounded this princess was idyllic, pastoral. She had seen nothing of the world, its sports and pastimes, and the art of playing at love was unknown to her. Again he could seeher serious eyes, the delicate chin and mouth, the oval cheeks, and thedog that followed in her steps. Here was an indelible picture which timecould never efface. Something stirred in his heart, and he sighed. 

And ah, the woman in the veil! Who could she be? The more he thought ofher the more convinced he was that she stood high in the service ofany one but Leopold of Osia. And Fitzgerald! That sober old soldierconcerned with crowns and millions! It was incredible; it was almostlaughable. They had met up-country in India, and had hunted, and Mauricehad saved the Englishman's life. Occasionally they had corresponded. 

"Well, to bed, " said the young diplomat. "This has been a full day. "And, like the true newspaper man he was, for all his diplomacy, heemptied the bottle and entered the room. He was about to disrobe, whensome one rapped on the door. He opened it, and beheld a man in thelivery of the Grand Hotel. He was breathing hard. 

"Herr Carewe?"

"Yes. What's wanted?"

"Herr Hamilton--"

"Hamilton? O, yes. Go on. "

"Herr Hamilton bade me to tell your Excellency that in returning to thehotel he sprained his ankle, and wishes to know if Herr would not be sokind as to spend the night with him. "

"Certainly. Run down to the office, and I shall be with you shortly. "Again alone, Maurice opened his trunk. He brought forth a pint flaskof brandy, some old handkerchiefs to be used as bandages, and a box ofsalve he used for bruises when on hunting expeditions. In turning overhis clothes his hand came into contact with his old army revolver. Hescratched his head. "No, it's too much like a cannon, and there's noroom for it in my pockets. " He pushed it aside, rose and slammed the lidof the trunk. "Sprained his ankle? He wasn't gone more than an hour. Howthe deuce is he to see the king to-morrow? Probably wishes to appoint mehis agent. That's it. Very well. " He proceeded to the office, where hefound the messenger waiting for him. "Come on, and put life into yoursteps. "

Together they traversed the moonlit thoroughfare. Few persons wereastir. Once the night patrol clattered by. They passed through themarkets, and not far ahead they could see the university. It looked likea city prison. 

"This is the hotel, Herr, " said the messenger. 

They entered. Maurice approached the proprietor, who was pale andflurried; but as Maurice had never seen the natural repose of hiscountenance, he thought nothing of it. 

"My friend, Herr Hamilton, has met with an accident. Where is his room?"

"Number nine; Johann will show you. " He acted as if he had somethingmore to say, but a glance from the round-faced porter silenced him. Maurice lost much by not seeing this glance. He followed the messengerup the stairs. 

There were no transoms. The corridor was devoid of illumination. Theporter struck a match and held it close to the panel of a door underwhich a thread of light streamed. 

"This is it, Herr, " he bawled, so loudly that Maurice started. 

"There was no need of waking the dead to tell me, " he growled. 

The door opened, and before Maurice could brace himself--for theinterior of the room made all plain to him--he was violently pushed overthe threshold on to his knees. He was up in an instant. The room wasfilled with soldiers, foot soldiers of the king, so it seemed. 

"What the devil is this?" he demanded, brushing his knees and cursinghimself because he had not brought his Colt when fate had put it almostin his hand. 

"It is a banquet, young man. We were waiting for the guest of honor. "

Maurice turned to the speaker, and saw a medium-sized man with grayhair and a frosty stubble of a mustache. He wore no insignia of office. Indeed, as Maurice gazed from one man to the next he saw that therewere no officers; and it came to him that these were not soldiers of theking. He was in a trap. He thought quickly. Fitzgerald was in trouble, perhaps on his account. Where was he?

"I do not see my friend who sprained his ankle, " he said coolly. 

This declaration was greeted with laughter. 

"Evidently I have entered the wrong room, " he continued imperturbably. He stepped toward the door, but a burly individual placed his back toit. 

"Am I a prisoner, or the victim of a practical joke?"

"Either way, " said the man with the frosty mustache. 

"Why?"

"You have recently formed a dangerous acquaintance, and we desire to aidyou in breaking it. "

"Are you aware, gentlemen--no, I don't mean gentlemen--that I amattached to the American legation in Vienna, and that my person isinviolable?"

Everybody laughed again--everybody but Maurice. 

"Allow me to correct you, " put in the elderly man, who evidently wasthe leader in the affair. "You are not attached; you are detached. Gentlemen, permit me, M. Carewe, detache of the American legation inVienna, who wishes he had stayed there. "

Maurice saw a brace of revolvers on the mantel. The table stood between. 

"Well, " he said, banteringly, "bring on your banquet; the hour is late. "

"That's the way; don't lose your temper, and no harm will come to you. "

"What do you wish of me?"

"Merely the pleasure of your company. Lieutenant, bring out thetreasure. "

One of the soldiers entered the next room and soon returned pushingFitzgerald before him. The Englishman was bound and gagged. 

"How will you have the pheasant served?" asked the leader. 

"Like a gentleman!" cried Maurice, letting out a little of his anger. "Take out the gag; he will not cry. "

The leader nodded, and Fitzgerald's mouth was relieved. He spat someblood on the carpet, then looked at his captors, the devil in his eyes. 

"Proceed to kill me and have done, " he said. 

"Kill you? No, no!"

"I advise you to, for if you do not kill me, some day I shall be freeagain, and then God help some of you. "

Maurice gazed at the candles on the table, and smiled. 

"I'm sorry they dragged you into it, Maurice, " said Fitzgerald. 

"I'm glad they did. What you want is company. " There was a glance, swiftas light. It went to the mantel, then passed to the captive. "Well, "said Maurice, "what is next on your damned program?"

"The other side of the frontier. "

"Maybe, " said Maurice. 

With an unexpected movement he sent the table over, the lights wentout; and he had judged the distance so accurately that he felt his handsclose over the revolvers. 

"The door! the door!" a voice bawled. "Knock down any one who attemptsto pass. "

This was precisely what Maurice desired. With the soldiers massed aboutthe door, he would be free to liberate Fitzgerald; which he did. Hehad scarcely completed the task, when a flame spurted up. The leaderfearlessly lit a candle and righted the table. He saw both hisprisoners, one of them with extended arms, at the ends of whichglistened revolver barrels. 

"The devil!" he said. 

"Maybe it is, " replied Maurice. "Now, my gay banqueteers, open the door;and the first man who makes a suspicious movement will find that I'm atolerable shot. "

"Seize him, your Excellency!" shouted one of the troopers. "Those are myrevolvers he has, and they are not loaded. "

CHAPTER VIII. THE RED CHATEAU

Two o'clock in the morning, on the king's highway, and a small body ofhorse making progress. The moon was beginning to roll away toward thewest, but the world was still frost-white, and the broad road stretchedout like a silver ribbon before the horsemen, until it was lost in theblue mist of the forests. 

The troop consisted of ten men, two of whom rode with their hands tiedbehind their backs and their feet fastened under the bellies of thehorses. The troop was not conspicuous for this alone. Three others hadtheir heads done up in handkerchiefs, and a fourth carried his arm in asling. 

Five miles to the rear lay the sleeping city of Bleiberg, twenty milesbeyond rose the formidable heights of the Thalians. At times the horseswent forward at a gallop, but more often they walked; when they gallopedthe man with his arm in the sling complained. Whenever the horsesdropped into a walk, the leader talked to one of the prisoners. 

"You fight like the very devil, my friend, " he said; "but we weretoo many by six. Mind, I think none the less of you for your attempt;freedom is always worth fighting for. As I said before, no harm is meantto you, physically; as to the moral side, that doesn't concern me. Youhave disabled four of my men, and have scarcely a dozen scratches toshow for it. I wanted to take only four men with me; I was ordered totake eight. The hand of providence is in it. "

"You wouldn't be so polite, Colonel, " spoke up the trooper whose arm wasin the sling, "if you had got this crack. "

"Baron, who told you to call me Colonel?" the leader demanded. 

"Why, we are out of the city; there's no harm now that I can see. "

"Is it possible, " said Maurice ironically, "that I have had the honor ofhitting a baron on the head and breaking his arm?"

The baron muttered a curse and fell back. 

"And you, " went on Maurice, addressing the leader, "are a Colonel?"

"Yes. "

"For the duchess?"

"For the duchess. "

"A black business for you, Colonel; take my word for it. "

"A black business it is; but orders are orders. Have you ever been asoldier?"

"I have. "

"Well, there's nothing more to be said. "

"America--" Maurice began. 

"Is several thousand miles away. "

"Not if you reckon from Vienna. "

"I'd rather not reckon, if it's all the same to you. Your friend--Imight say, your very valuable friend--takes the matter too much toheart. "

"He's not a talkative man. "

Fitzgerald looked straight ahead, stern and impassive. 

"But now that we are talking, " said Maurice, "I should like to know howthe deuce you got hold of my name and dragged me into this affair?"

"Simple enough. A card of yours was given to me; on it was your name andaddress. The rest was easy. "

Maurice grew limp in the saddle. 

"By George! I had forgotten! The woman is at the bottom of it. "

"Quite likely. I thought you'd come to that conclusion. Sometimes whenwe play with foxes they lead us into bear traps. Young man, witnessthese gray hairs; never speak to strange women, especially when theywear veils. "

Fitzgerald was now attending the conversation. 

"And who is this woman?" asked Maurice. 

"Mademoiselle of the Veil, according to your picturesque imagination; tome she is the intimate friend and adviser of her Highness Stephonia. " Hewheeled to the troopers with a laugh: "Hoch, you beggars, hoch!"

Maurice indulged in some uncomplimentary remarks, among which was: "I'man ass!"

"Every man improves on making that discovery; the Darwinian theory iswrong. "

After a pause Maurice said: "How did you get on the ground so quickly?"

"We arrived yesterday afternoon as the escort of your charmer. A prettywoman finds it troublesome to travel alone in these parts. When youslapped your friend on the back and bawled out his name--a name knownfrom one end of the kingdom to the other--the plan of action wasimmediately formed. You were necessary, for it was taken for grantedthat you knew too much. You had also promised your sword, " with achuckle. 

"I made no promise, " said Maurice. "I only said that I should easily befound when wanted. "

"Well, so you were; there's no gainsaying that. "

Maurice said some more uncomplimentary things. 

"It was neatly done, you will admit. Life is a game of cards; he winswho plays first. "

"Or he doesn't. Colonel, a game is won only when it is played'. "

"That's true enough. "

"Kings are a tolerable bother on earth, " Maurice declared, trying toease his wrists by holding them higher against his back. 

"What do you know about them?"

"When I was in the army I often fell in with three or four of a night. "

"Eh?--kings?"

"Yes; but usually I was up against aces or straight flushes. "

"Cards! Well, well; when you get down to the truth of the matter, realkings differ but little from the kings in pasteboard; right side up, orwrong side up, they serve the purpose of those who play them. There's apoor, harmless devil back there, " with a nod toward Bleiberg. "He neverinjured a soul. Perhaps that's it; had he been cruel, avaricious, sly, all of them would be cringing at his feet. Devil take me--but I'm asoldier, " he broke off abruptly; "it's none of my business. "

"Have you any titles?" Maurice asked presently. 

"Titles?" The Colonel jerked around on his horse. "Why?"

"O, " said Maurice carelessly, "I thought it not unlikely that you mighthave a few lying around loose. "

The Colonel roared. "You Americans beat the very devil with yourquestions. Well, I am politely known as Count Mollendorf, if that willgratify you. "

"What! brother of Mollendorf of the king's police?"

"God save the mark! No; I am an honest man--some of the time. "

Maurice laughed; the old fellow was amusing, and besides, thisconversation helped to pass away the time. 

"Wake up, Jack; here's entertainment, " he said. 

A scowl added itself to the stern expression on Fitzgerald's face. 

"I trust that none of your teeth are loose, " ventured the Colonel. 

"If they are, they'll be tight enough ere many days have passed, " wasthe threatening reply. 

"Beware the dog!" cried the Colonel, and he resumed his place at thehead of the little troop. 

Maurice took this opportunity to bend toward Fitzgerald. "Have youanything of importance about you?" he whispered significantly. 

"Nothing. But God send that no chambermaid change the sheet in my bed atthe hotel. "

"Are they--"

"Silence. " Fitzgerald saw the trooper next with his hand to his ear. 

After a time the Colonel sang out: "Fifteen miles more, with three onthe other side, men; we must put more life into us. A trot for a fewmiles. The quicker the ride is done, baron, the quicker the surgeon willlook to your arm. "

And silence fell upon the troop. Occasionally a stray horse in thefields whinneyed, and was answered from the road; sometimes the howl ofa dog broke the monotony. On and on they rode; hour and mile were leftbehind them. The moon fell lower and lower, and the mountains rosehigher and higher, and the wind which had risen had a frosty sting toit. Maurice now began to show the true state of his temper by cursinghis horse whenever it rubbed against one of its fellows. His back waslame, and there was a dull pain in one of his shoulders. When he hadmade the rush for the door, clubbing right and left with the emptyrevolvers, he had finally been thrown on an overturned chair. 

"Here, hang you!" he said to the trooper who held the bridle of hishorse, "I'm cold; you might at least turn up my collar about my throat. "

"You are welcome to my cloak, " said the trooper, disengaging thatarticle from his shoulders. 

"Thank you, " said Maurice, somewhat abashed by the respectful tone. 

The trooper offered his blanket to Fitzgerald. 

"I wish no favors, " said the Englishman, thanklessly. 

The trooper shrugged, and caught up Maurice's bridle. 

At length the troop arrived at the frontier. There was no sign of lifeat the barrack. They passed unchallenged. 

"What!" exclaimed Maurice, "do they sleep here at night, then? A finefrontier barrack. " He had lived in hopes of more disturbance and apossible chance for liberty. 

"They will wake up to-day, " answered the Colonel; "that is, if the winewe gave them was not too strong. Poor devils; they must be good and coldby this time, since we have their clothes. What do you think of a kingwhose soldiers drink with any strangers who chance along?"

Maurice became resigned. To him the present dynasty was as fragile asglass, and it needed but one strong blow to shatter it into atoms. Andthe one hope rode at his side, sullen and wrathful, but impotent; theone hope the king had to save his throne. He had come to Bleiberg insearch of excitement, but this was altogether more than he had bargainedfor. 

The horses began to lift and were soon winding in and out of the narrowmountain pass. The chill of the overhanging snows fell upon them. 

"It wouldn't have hurt you to accept the blanket, " said Maurice toFitzgerald. 

"Curse it! I want nothing but two minutes freedom. It would be warmenough then. "

"No confidences, gentlemen, " warned the Colonel; "I understand Englishtolerably well. "

"Go to the devil, then, if you do!" said Fitzgerald discourteously. 

"When the time comes, " tranquilly. "Of the two I like your friendthe better. To be resigned to the inevitable is a sign of good mentalbalance. "

"I am not used to words, " replied the Englishman. 

"You are used to orders. I am simply obeying mine. If I took you offyour guard it was because I had to, and not because I liked that methodbest. Look alive, men; it's down hill from now on. "

A quarter of an hour later the troop arrived at the duchy's frontierpost. There was no sleep here. The Colonel flung himself from his horseand exercised his legs. 

"Sergeant, " he said, "how far behind the others?"

"They passed two hours ago, Excellency. And all is well?" deferentially. 

"All is indeed well, " with a gesture toward the prisoners. 

"I've a flask of brandy in my hip pocket, " said Maurice. "Will you helpme to a nip, Colonel?"

"Pardon me, gentlemen; I had forgotten that your hands were still incords. Corporal, " to a trooper, "relieve their hands. "

The prisoners rubbed their wrists and hands, which were numb and cold. Maurice produced his flask. 

"I was bringing it along for your sprained ankle, " he said, as heextended the flask to Fitzgerald, who drank a third of it. "I'd offeryou some, Colonel, only it would be like heaping coals of fire on yourhead; and, besides, I want it all myself. " He returned the emptied flaskto his pocket, feeling a moderate warmth inside. 

"Drink away, my son, " said the Colonel, climbing into the saddle;"there'll be plenty for me for this night's work. Forward!"

The troop took up the march again, through a splendid forest kept clearof dead wood by the peasants. It abounded with game. The shrill cry ofthe pheasants, the rustle of the partridges in the underbrush, the barkof the fox, all rose to the ears of the trespassers. The smell of warmearth permeated the air, and the sky was merging from silver into gold. 

When Napoleon humiliated Austria for the second time, one of hismushroom nobles, who placed too much faith in the man of destiny, selected this wooded paradise as a residence. He built him a fine castleof red brick, full of wide halls and drawing rooms and chambers ofstate, and filled it with fabulous paintings, Gobelin tapestries, andblack walnut wainscot. He kept a small garrison of French soldiersby converting the huge stables partly into a barrack. One night thepeasantry rose. There was a conflict, as the walls still show; and theprince by patent fled, no one knew where. After its baptism in bloodit became known far and wide as the Red Chateau. Whenever children wereunruly, they were made docile by threats of the dark dungeons of the RedChateau, or the ghosts of the French and German peasants who died there. As it now stood, it was one of the summer residences of her Highness. 

It was here that the long night's journey came to an end. 

"Gentlemen, " said the Colonel, dismounting, "permit me, in the name ofher Highness, to offer you the hospitality of Red Chateau. Consider;will you lighten my task by giving me your word of honor to make noattempt to escape? Escape is possible, but not probable. There aretwenty fresh men and horses in the stables. Come, be reasonable. It willbe pleasanter on both sides. "

"So far as I'm concerned, " said Maurice, who needed liberty not half somuch as sleep, "I pass my word. "

"And you, sir?" to Fitzgerald. 

Fitzgerald gazed about him. "Very well, " he said, as he saw the futilityof a struggle. 

"Your humble servant, Messieurs, " touching his cap. "Take the ropes offtheir ankles, men. "

When Maurice was lifted from his horse and placed on the ground, hislegs suddenly bent under him, and he went sprawling to the grass. Atrooper sprang to his assistance. 

"My legs have gone to sleep!"

The Englishman was affected likewise, and it was some moments beforeeither could walk. They were conducted to a chamber high up in the leftwing, which overlooked the forest and the mountains. It was a large airyroom, but the windows were barred and there were double locks on thedoors. The Colonel followed them into the room and pointed to the table. 

"Breakfast, Messieurs, and a good sleep for you till this noon. As forthe rest, let that take care of itself. " And he left them. 

Maurice, after having tried all the bars and locks in answer to hisconscience, gave his attention to the breakfast. On lifting the covershe found fish, eggs, toast and coffee. 

"Here's luck!" he cried. "We were expected. "

"Curse it, Maurice!" Fitzgerald began pacing the room. 

"No, no, " said Maurice; "let us eat it; that's what it's here for, " andhe fell to with that vigor known only to healthy blood. 

"But what's to be done?"

"Follow Solomon's advice, and wait. "

"You're taking it cursed cool. "

"Force of habit, " breaking the toast. "What's the use of wasting powder?Because I have shown only the exterior, our friend the Colonel hasalready formed an opinion of me. I am brave if need be, but young andcareless. In a day or so--for I suppose we are not to be liberated atonce--he'll forget to use proper caution in respect to me. And then, 'who can say?' as the Portuguese says when he hasn't anything else tosay. They'll keep a strict watch over you, my friend, because you'veplayed the lion too much. Just before I left the States, as you callthem, a new slang phrase was going the rounds;--'it is better to playthe fox some of the time than to roar all of the time. ' Ergo, be foxy. Take it cool. So long as you haven't got that mint packed about yourperson, the game breaks even. "

"But the king!"

"Is as secure on his throne as he ever was. If you do not present thoseconsols, either for renewal or collection, on the twentieth, he losesnothing. As you said, let us hope that the chambermaid is a shifty, careless lass, who will not touch your room till you return. " Mauricebroke an egg and dropped a lump of sugar into his cup. 

"Is this the way you fight Indians?"

"Indians? What the deuce has fighting Indians to do with this? As toIndians, shoot them in the back if you can. Here, everything depends noton fighting but the right use of words. A man may be a diplomat andnot render his country any large benefit; still, it's a fine individualtraining. Thrones stand on precipices and are pushed back to safety bythe trick of a few words. Have an egg; they're fresh. "

Fitzgerald sat down and gulped his coffee. "They broke my monocle in thestruggle. "

Maurice choked in his cup. 

"I've worn it twelve years, too, " went on Fitzgerald. 

"Everything is for the best, " said Maurice. "You will be able to see outof both eyes. "

"Confound you!" cried Fitzgerald, smiling in spite of himself; "nothingwill disturb you. "

"You mean, nothing shall. Now, there's the bed and there's the lounge. Since you are the principal, that is to say, the constituent part ofthis affair, and also the principal actor in this extravaganza, supposeyou take the bed and leave me the lounge? And the deuce take theduchess, who is probably a woman with a high forehead and a pair ofnarrow eyes!" He threw down his napkin and made for the lounge, withoutgiving any particular attention to the smile and frown which werestruggling in the Englishman's eyes. In less than a minute Maurice wasdozing. 

Fitzgerald thought that the best thing he could do was to follow thephilosophical example of his friend. "These Americans, " he mused, as hearranged the pillow under his ear, "are `fifteen puzzles'; you can movethem, or you can't. "

As for Maurice, he was already dreaming; he was too tired to sleep. Presently he thought he was on a horse again, and was galloping, galloping. He was heading his old company to the very fringe of thealkali. The Apaches had robbed the pay train and killed six men, andthe very deuce was to pay all around. .. . Again he was swimming, and abeautiful girl reached out a hand and saved him. Ah! how beautiful shewas, how soft and rich the deep brown of her eyes!. .. The scene shifted. The president of the South American republic had accepted his sword(unbeknown to the United States authorities), and he was aiding to quellthe insurrection. And just then some one whispered to him that goldwould rise fifty points. And as he put out his hands to gather in theglittering coins which were raining down, the face of Colonel Beauvaisloomed up, scowling and furious. .. . And yet again came the beautifulgirl. He was holding her hand and the archbishop had his spread out inbenediction over their heads. .. . A hand, which was not of dreamland, shook him by the arm. He opened his eyes. Fitzgerald was standing overhim. The light of the sun spangled the walls opposite the windows. Theclock marked the eleventh hour of day. 

"Hang you!" he said, with blinking eyes; "why didn't you let me be?I was just marrying the princess, and you've spoiled it all. I--" Hejumped to his feet and rubbed his eyes, and, forgetful of all save hisastonishment, pursed his lips into a low whistle. 

CHAPTER IX. NOTHING MORE SERIOUS THAN A HOUSE PARTY

Standing just within the door, smiling and rubbing the gray bristleson his lip, was the Colonel. In the center of the room stood awoman dressed in gray. Maurice recognized the dress; it belonged toMademoiselle of the Veil, who was now sans veil, sans hat. A marvelousface was revealed to Maurice, a face of that peculiar beauty which poetsand artists are often minded to deny, but for the love of which men die, become great or terrible, overturn empires and change the map of theworld. 

Her luxuriant hair, which lay in careless masses about the shapely headand intelligent brow, was a mixture of red and brown and gold, a varietywhich never ceases to charm; skin the pallor of ancient marble, withthe shadow of rose lying below the eyes, the large, gray chatoyanteyes, which answered every impulse of the brain which ruled them. Theirregularity of her features was never noticeable after a glance intothose eyes. At this moment both eyes and lips expressed a shade ofamusement. 

Maurice, who was astonished never more than a minute at a time, immediately recovered. His toilet was somewhat disarranged, and the backof his head a crow's nest, but, nevertheless, he placed a hand over hisheart and offered a low obeisance. 

"Good morning, gentlemen, " she said, in a voice which Maurice wouldhave known anywhere. "I hope the journey has caused you no particularannoyance. "

"The annoyance was not so particular, Madame, " said Fitzgerald stiffly, "as it was general. "

"And four of my troopers will take oath to that!" interjected theColonel. 

"Will Madame permit me to ask when will the opera begin?" asked Maurice. 

"I am glad, " said she, "that you have lost none of your freshness. "

Maurice was struck for a moment, but soon saw that the remark wasinnocent of any inelegance of speech. Fitzgerald was gnawing hismustache and looking out of the corner of his eyes--into hers. 

"My task, I confess, is a most disagreeable one, " she resumed, lightlybeating her gauntlets together; "but when one serves high personages oneis supposed not to have any sentiments. " To Fitzgerald she said: "Youare the son of the late Lord Fitzgerald. "

"For your sake, I regret to say that I am. "

"For my sake? Worry yourself none on that point. As the agent of herHighness I am inconsiderable. "

"Madame, " said Maurice, "will you do us the honor to inform us to whomwe are indebted for this partiality to our distinguished persons?"

"I am Sylvia Amerbach, " quietly. 

"Amerbach?" said Maurice, who was familiar with the great names of thecontinent. "Pardon me, but that was once a famous name in Prussia. "

"I am distantly related to that house of princes, " looking at hergauntlets. 

"Well, Madame, since your business doubtless concerns me, pray, begin;"and Fitzgerald leaned against the mantelpiece and fumbled with the rimof his monocle. 

Maurice walked to one of the windows and perched himself on the broadsill. He began to whistle softly:

Voici le sabre de mon pere! Tu vas le mettre a ton cote. .. . 

Beyond the window, at the edge of the forest, he saw a sentinel pacingbackward and forward. Indeed, no matter which way he looked, theautumnal scenery had this accessory. Again, he inspected the bars. Thesewere comparatively new. It was about thirty feet to the court below. Onthe whole, the outlook was discouraging. 

"Count, " said the distant relative of the house of Amerbach, "how shallI begin?"

"I am not a diplomat, Madame, " answered the Colonel. "If, however, youwish the advice of a soldier, I should begin by asking if my lord theEnglishman has those consols about his person. "

"Fie, count!" she cried, laughing; "one would say that was a prelude torobbery. "

"So they would. As for myself, I prefer violence to words. If we takethese pretty papers by violence, we shall still have left our friendthe Englishman his self-respect. And as for words, while my acquaintancewith our friend is slight, I should say that they would only be wastedhere. "

The whistle from the window still rose and fell. 

"Monsieur, I have it in my power to make you rich. "

"I am rich, " replied Fitzgerald. 

"In honors?"

"Madame, the title I have is already a burden to me. " Fitzgeraldlaughed, which announced that the cause of the duchess was not gettingon very well. Once or twice he raised the tortoiseshell rim to his eye, but dropped it; force of habit was difficult to overcome. 

"Your father nourished a particular rancor against the late duke. "

"And justly, you will admit. "

"Her Highness has offered you five millions for slips of paper worth nomore than the ink which decorates them. "

"And I have refused. Why? Simply because the matter does not rest withme. You have proceeded with a high hand, Madame, or rather your duchesshas. Nothing will come of it. Had there been any possibility of myconsidering your proposals, this kidnaping would have destroyed it. "

She smiled. Maurice saw the smile and stopped whistling long enough toscratch his chin, which was somewhat in need of a razor. He hadseen many women smile that way. He had learned to read it. It was aninarticulate "perhaps. "

"The rightful successor to the throne--"

"Is Madame the duchess, " Fitzgerald completed. "I haven't the slightestdoubt of that. One way or the other, it does not concern me. I came heresimply to fulfill the wishes of my father; and my word, Madame, fulfillthem I shall. You are holding me a prisoner, but uselessly. On thetwentieth the certificates fall due against the government. If they arenot presented either for renewal or collection, the bankruptcy scheme ofyour duchess will fall through just the same. I will tell you thetruth, Madame. My father never expected to collect the moneys so long asLeopold sat on the throne. "

The whistle grew shrill. 

"This officer here, " continued Fitzgerald, while the Colonel made acomical grimace, "suggests violence. I shall save him the trouble. Ihave seen much of the world, Madame--the hard side of it--and, knowingit as I do, it is scarcely probable that I should carry about my personthe equivalent of four millions of crowns. "

"Well, Madame, " said the Colonel, pushing his belt closer about hiships, as a soldier always does when he is on the point of departure, "what he says is true, every word of it. I see nothing more to do atpresent. "

Mademoiselle of the Veil was paying not so much attention to theColonel's words as she was to Maurice's whistle. 

"Monsieur, " she said, coldly, "have you no other tune in yourrepertory?"

"Pardon me!" exclaimed Maurice. "I did not intend to annoy you. " Hestepped down out of the window. 

"You do not annoy me; only the tune grows rather monotonous. "

"I will whistle anything you may suggest, " he volunteered. 

She did not respond to this flippancy, though the pupils of her grayeyes grew large with anger. She walked the length of the room and back. 

"Count, what do you think would be most satisfactory to her Highness, under the circumstances?"

"I have yet to hear of her Highness' disapproval of anything youundertake. "

"Messieurs, your parole d'honneur, and the freedom of the chateau isyours--within the sentry lines. I wish to make your recollections of theRed Chateau rather pleasant than otherwise. I shall be most happy if youwill honor my table with your presence. "

The Colonel coughed, Maurice smoothed the back of his head, andFitzgerald caught up his monocle. 

"My word, Madame, " said Maurice, "is not worth much, being that ofa diplomat, but such as it is it is yours. However, my clothes arescarcely presentable, " which was true enough. Several buttons weremissing, and the collar hung by a thread. 

"That can be easily remedied, " said she. "There are several new hussaruniforms in the armory. "

"O, Madame, and you will permit me to wear one of those gay uniforms oflight blue and silver lace?"

The Colonel looked thoughtfully at Maurice. He was too much a bantererhimself to miss the undercurrent of raillery. He eyed Madame discreetly;he saw that she had accepted merely the surface tones. 

"And you will wear one, too, Jack?" said Maurice. 

"No, thank you. I pass my word, Madame; I do not like confinement. "

"Well, then, the count will shortly return and establish you in betterquarters. Let us suppose you are my guests for a--a fortnight. Sinceboth of us are right, since neither your cause nor mine is wrong, an armistice! Ah! I forgot. The east corridor on the third floor isforbidden you. Should you mistake and go that way, a guard will directyou properly. Messieurs, till dinner!" and with a smile which illuminedher face as a sudden burst of sunshine flashes across a hillside, shepassed out of the room, followed by her henchman, who had not yet putaside the thoughtful repose of his countenance. 

"A house party, " said Maurice, when he could no longer hear theirfootsteps. "And what the deuce have they got so valuable in the eastcorridor on the third floor?"

"It's small matter to me, " said Fitzgerald tranquilly. "The main fact isthat she has given up her game. "

Said Maurice, his face expressing both pity and astonishment: "My dear, dear John! Didn't you see that woman's eyes, her hair, her chin, hernose?"

"Well?"

"True; you haven't had any experience with petticoats. This woman willrend heaven and earth rather than relinquish her projects, or ratherthose of her mistress. I should like to see this duchess, who shows afine discernment in the selection of her assistants. Beware of thewoman who is frankly your enemy. If she is frank, it is because she isconfident of the end; if not, she is frank in order to disarm us of thesuspicion of cunning. I would give much to know the true meaning of thishouse party. "

"Hang me if I can see what difference it makes. She can not do anythingeither by frankness or by cunning. "

"She gathered us in neatly, this red-haired Amazon. "

"Red-haired!" in a kind of protest. 

"Why, yes; that's the color, isn't it?" innocently. 

"I thought it a red-brown. It's too bad that such a woman should bemixed up in an affair like this. "

"Woman will sacrifice to ambition what she never will sacrifice to love. Hush; I hear the Colonel returning. "

They were conducted to the opposite wing of the chateau, to a room onthe second floor. Its windows afforded an excellent view of the landwhich lay south. Hills rolled away like waves of gold, dotted here andthere with vineyards. Through the avenue of trees they could see thehighway, and beyond, the river, which had its source in the mountainsten miles eastward. 

The room itself was in red, evidently a state chamber, for it containedtwo canopied beds. Several fine paintings hung from the walls, andbetween the two windows rose one of those pier glasses which owe theirexistence to the first empire of France. On one of the beds Maurice sawthe hussar uniform. On the dresser were razors and mugs and a pitcher ofhot water. 

"Ah, " he said, with satisfaction. 

"The boots may not fit you, " said the Colonel, "but if they do not wewill manage some way. "

"I shall not mind the fortnight, " said Maurice. "By the way, Colonel, Inotice that French seems to prevail instead of German. Why is that?"

"It is the common language of politeness, and servants do not understandit. As for myself, I naturally prefer the German tongue; it is bluntand honest and lacks the finesse of the French, which is full of evasivewords and meanings. However, French predominates at court. Besides, heaven help the foreigner who tries to learn all the German tongues tobe found in the empires of the Hohenzollern and Hapsburg. Luncheon willbe served to you in the dining hall; the first door to the right atthe foot of the grand staircase. I shall send you a trooper to act asvalet. "

"Spare me, Colonel, " said Maurice, who did not want any one between himand the Englishman when they were alone. 

"I have never had a valet, " said Fitzgerald; "he would embarrass me. "

"As you please, " said the Colonel, a shade of disappointment in histones. "After all, you are soldiers, where every man is for himself. Make yourselves at home;" and he withdrew. 

Maurice at once applied lather and razor, and put on the handsomeuniform, which fitted him snugly. The coat was tailless, with rows ofsilver buttons running from collar to waist. The breast and shouldersand sleeves were covered with silver lace, and Maurice concluded that itmust be nothing less than a captain's uniform. The trousers were tightfitting, with broad stripes of silver; and the half boots were of patentleather. He walked backward and forward before the pier-glass. 

"I say, Fitz, what do you think of it?"

"You're a handsome rascal, Maurice, " answered the Englishman, who hadwatched his young friend, amusement in his sober eyes. "Happily, thereare no young women present. "

"Go to! I'll lay odds that our hostess is under twenty-five. "

"I meant young women of sixteen or seventeen. Women such as Madame havelong since passed the uniform fever. "

"Not when it has lace, my friend, court lace. Well, forward to thedining hall. "

Both were rather disappointed to find that Madame would be absent untildinner. Fitzgerald could not tell exactly why he was disappointed, andhe was angry with himself for the vague regret. Maurice, however, foundconsolation in the demure French maid who served them. Every time hesmiled she made a courtesy, and every time she left the room Mauricenudged Fitzgerald. 

"Smile, confound you, smile!" he whispered. "There's never a maid buthas her store of gossip, and gossip is information. "

"Pshaw!" said Fitzgerald, helping himself to cold ham and chicken. 

"Wine, Messieurs?" asked the maid. 

"Ah, then Madame offers the cellars?" said Maurice. 

"Yes, Messieurs. There is chambertin, champagne, chablis, tokayer andsherry. "

"Bring us some chambertin, then. "

"Oui, Messieurs. "

"Hurry along, my Hebe, " said Maurice. 

The maid was not on familiar terms with the classics, but she told thebutler in the pantry that the smooth-faced one made a charming Captain. 

"Keep your eyes open, " grumbled the butler; "he'll be kissing you next. "

"He might do worse, " was the retort. Even maids have their mirrors, andhers told a pretty story. When she returned with the wine she asked:"And shall I pour it, Messieurs?"

"No one else shall, " declared Maurice. "When is the duchess to arrive?"

"I do not know, Monsieur, " stepping in between the chairs and fillingthe glasses with the ruby liquid. 

"Who is Madame Sylvia Amerbach?"

"Madame Sylvia Amerbach, " placing the bottle on the table and going tothe sideboard. She returned with a box of "Khedives. "

Fitzgerald laughed at Maurice's disconcertion. 

"Where has Madame gone?"

"To the summer home of Countess Herzberg, who is to return with Madame. "

"Oho!" cried Maurice, in English. "A countess! What do you say to that, my Englishman?"

"She is probably old and plain. Madame desires a chaperon. "

"You forget that Madame desires nothing but those certificates. And thechaperon does not live who could keep an eye on Madame Sylvia Amerbach. "

The mention of the certificates brought back all the Englishman'sdiscomfort, and he emptied his glass of wine not as a lover of good wineshould. Soon they rose from the table. The maid ran to the door and heldit open. Fitzgerald hurried through, but Maurice lingered a moment. Heput his hand under the porcelain chin and looked into the china-blueeyes. Fitzgerald turned. 

"What was that noise?" he asked, as Maurice shouldered him along thehall. 

"What noise?"

Madame came back to the chateau at five, and dinner was announced ateight. The Countess Herzberg was young and pretty, the possessor of abeautiful mouth and a charming smile. The Colonel did the honors atthe table. Maurice almost fancied himself in Vienna, the setting of thedining room was so perfect. The entire room was paneled in walnut. Onthe mantel over the great fireplace stood silver candlesticks withwax tapers. The candlestick in the center of the table was composed oftwelve branches. The cuisine was delectable, the wines delicious. Madameand the countess were in evening dress. The Colonel was brimming withanecdote, the countess was witty, Madame was a sister to Aspasia. 

Maurice, while he enjoyed this strange feast, was puzzled. It was veryirregular, and the Colonel's gray hairs did not serve to alter thisfact. What was the meaning of it? What lay underneath?

Sometimes he caught Fitzgerald in the act of staring at Madame when herattention was otherwise engaged; at other times he saw that Madame wasreturning this cursory investigation. There was, however, altogether adifferent meaning in these surreptitious glances. In the one there wereinterest, doubt, admiration; in the other, cold calculation. At no timedid the conversation touch politics, and the crown was a thousand milesaway--if surface indications went for aught. 

Finally the Colonel rose. "A toast--to Madame the duchess, since this isher very best wine!"

Maurice emptied his glass fast enough; but Fitzgerald lowered his eyesand made no movement to raise his glass. The pupils in Madame's eyesgrew small. 

"That is scarcely polite, Monsieur, " she said. 

"Madame, " he replied gently, "my parole did not include toasts to herHighness. My friend loves wine for its own sake, and seldom bothers hishead about the toast as long as the wine is good. Permit me to withdrawthe duchess and substitute yourself. "

"Do so, if it will please you. In truth, it was bad taste in you, count, to suggest it. "

"It's all the same to me;" and the Colonel refilled his glass andnodded. 

The countess smiled behind her fan, while Maurice felt the edge of themild reproach which had been administered to him. 

"I plead guilty to the impeachment. It was very wrong. Far from it thatI should drink to the health of the Philistines. Madame the countess wasbeating me down with her eyes, and I did not think. "

"I was not even looking at you!" declared the countess, blushing. 

The incident was soon forgotten; and at length Madame and the countessrose. 

Said the first: "We will leave you gentlemen to your cigars; and whenthey have ceased to interest you, you will find us in the music room. "

"And you will sing?" said Maurice to the countess. 

"If you wish. " She was almost beautiful when she smiled, and she smiledon Maurice. 

"I confess, " said he, "that being a prisoner, under certaincircumstances, is a fine life. "

"What wicked eyes he has, " said the countess, as she and Madame enteredthe music room. 

"Do not look into them too often, my dear, " was the rejoinder. "I haveasked not other sacrifice than that you should occupy his attention andmake him fall in love with you. "

"Ah, Madame, that will be easy enough. But what is to prevent me fromfalling in love with him? He is very handsome. "

"You are laughing!"

"Yes, I am laughing. It will be such an amusing adventure, a souvenirfor my old age--and may my old age forget me. "

The men lit their cigars and smoked in silence. 

"Colonel, " said Maurice at last, "will you kindly tell me what all thismeans?"

"Never ask your host how old his wine is. If he is proud of it, he willtell you. " He blew the smoke under the candle shades and watched it asit darted upward. "Don't you find it comfortable? I should. "

"Conscience will not lie down at one's bidding. "

"I understood that you were a diplomat?" The Colonel turned toFitzgerald. "I hope that, when you are liberated, you will forget themanner in which you were brought here. "

"I shall forget nothing, " curtly. 

"The devil! I can not fight you; I am too old. "

Fitzgerald said nothing, and continued to play with his emptiedwine-glass. 

"The Princess Alexia, " went on the Colonel, "has a bulldog. I havealways wondered till now what the nationality of the dog was. Thebulldog neither forsakes nor forgives; he is an Englishman. "

This declaration was succeeded by another interval of silence. TheEnglishman was thinking of his father; the thoughts of Maurice wereanywhere but at the chateau; the Colonel was contemplating them both, shrewdly. 

"Well, to the ladies, gentlemen; it is half after nine. "

The countess was seated at the piano, improvising. Madame stood beforethe fireplace, arranging the pieces on a chess board. In the centerof the room was a table littered with books, magazines and illustratedweeklies. 

"Do you play chess, Monsieur?" said Madame to Fitzgerald. 

"I do not. "

"Well, Colonel, we will play a game and show him how it is done. "

Fitzgerald drew up a chair and sat down at Madame's elbow. He followedevery move she made because he had never seen till now so round andshapely an arm, hands so small and white, tipped with pink filbertnails. He did not learn the game so quickly as might be. He, likeMaurice, was pondering over the unusual position in which he foundhimself; but analysis of any sort was not his forte; so he soon forgotall save the delicate curve of Madame's chin and throat, the soft rippleof her laughter, the abysmal gray of her eyes. 

"Monsieur le Capitaine, " said the countess, "what shall I sing to you?"

"To me?" said Maurice. "Something from Abt. "

Her fingers ran lightly over the keys, and presently her voice rose insong, a song low, sweet, and sad. Maurice peered out of the windowinto the shades of night. Visions passed and repassed the curtain ofdarkness. Once or twice the countess turned her head and looked at him. It was not only a handsome face she saw, but one that carried the markof refinement. .. . Maurice was thinking of the lonely princess and hergrave dark eyes. He possessed none of that power from which princesderive benefits; what could he do? And why should he interest himself ina woman who, in any event, could never be anything to him, scarcely evena friend? He smiled. 

If Fitzgerald was not adept at analysis, he was. Nothing ever enteredhis mind or heart that he could not separate and define. It was strange;it was almost laughable; to have fenced as long and adroitly as he hadfenced, and then to be disarmed by one who did not even understand thefoils! Surrender? Why not?. .. By and by his gaze traveled to the chessplayers. There was another game than chess being played there, thoughkings and queens and knights and bishops were still the sum of it. 

"Are you so very far away, then?" The song had ceased; the countess waslooking at him curiously. 

"Thank you, " he said; "indeed, you had taken me out of myself. "

"Do you like chestnuts?" she asked suddenly. 

"I am very fond of them. "

"Then I shall fetch some. " It occurred to her that the room was verywarm; she wanted a breath of air--alone. 

"Checkmate!" cried the Colonel, joyfully. 

"Do you begin to understand?" asked Madame. 

"A little, " admitted Fitzgerald, who did not wish to learn too quickly. "I like to watch the game. "

"So do I, " said Maurice, who had approached the table. "I should like toknow what the game is, too. "

Both Madame and the Colonel appeared to accept the statement and not theinnuendo. Madame placed the figures on the board. 

Maurice strolled over to the table and aimlessly glanced through theVienna illustrated weeklies. He saw Franz Josef in characteristic poses, full-page engravings of the military maneuvers and reproductions of thenotable paintings. He picked up an issue dated June. A portrait of thenew Austrian ambassador to France attracted his attention. He turned theleaf. What he saw on the following page caused him to widen his eyes andlet slip an ejaculation loud enough to be heard by the chess players. Madame seemed on the point of rising. Maurice did not lower his eyes norMadame hers. 

"Checkmate in three moves, Madame!" exclaimed the Colonel; "it iswonderful. "

"What's the matter, Maurice?" asked Fitzgerald. 

"Jack, I am a ruined man. "

"How? What?" nearly upsetting the board. 

"I just this moment remember that I left my gas burning at the hotel, and it is extra. "

The Colonel and Fitzgerald lay back in their chairs and roared withlaughter. 

But Madame did not even smile. 

CHAPTER X. BEING OF LONG RIDES, MAIDS, KISSES AND MESSAGES

Fitzgerald was first into bed that night. 

"I want to finish this cigar, Jack, " said Maurice, who wished to bealone with his thoughts. He sat in the chair by the window and liftedhis feet to the sill. The night wind was warm and odorous. He hadfound a clue, but through what labyrinth would it lead him? A strangeadventure, indeed; so strange that he was of half a mind that hedreamed. Prisoners. .. . Why? And these two women alone in this oldchateau, a house party. There lay below all this some deep design. 

Should he warn his friend? Indeed, as yet, of what had he to warn him?To discover Madame to Fitzgerald would be to close the entrance to thislabyrinth which he desired to explore. How would Madame act, now thatshe knew he possessed her secret? Into many channels he passed, butall these were blind, and led him to no end. Madame had a purpose; todiscover what this purpose was Fitzgerald must remain in ignorance. Whata woman! She resembled one of those fabulous creatures of medieval days. And why was the countess on the scene, and what was her part in thisinvisible game?

He finished his cigar and lit another; but the second cigar solved nomore than the first. Mademoiselle of the Veil! He knew now what shemeant; having asked her to lift her veil, she had said, "Somethingterrible would happen. " At last he, too, sought bed, but he did notsleep so soundly as did Fitzgerald. 

Ten days of this charming captivity passed; there was a thicker carpetof leaves on the ground, and new distances began to show mistily throughthe dismantling forest. But there were no changes at the Red Chateau--nooutward changes. It might, in truth, have been a house party but forthe prowling troopers and the continual grumbling of the Englishman whenalone with Maurice. 

During the day they hunted or took long rides into the interior of theduchy. Both women possessed a fine skill in the saddle. In the eveningsthere were tourneys at chess, games and music. 

Each night Fitzgerald learned a little more about chess and a littleless about woman. The countess, airy and delicate as a verse ofVoiture's, bent all her powers (and these were not inconsiderable)toward the subjugation of Maurice. She laughed, she sang, shefascinated. She had the ability to amuse hour after hour. She offeredvague promises with her eyes, and refused them with her lips. Maurice, who was never impregnable under the fire of feminine artillery, wasat times half in love with her; but his suspicions, always near thesurface, saved him. 

Sometimes he caught her hand and retained it over long; and once, whenhe kissed it, there was no rebuke. Again, when she sang, he would leanso close that she could feel his breath on her cheek, and her fingerswould stumble into discords. Often she would suddenly rise from thepiano and walk swiftly from the room, through the halls, into the park, where, though he followed, he never could find her. One day she andMadame returned from a walk in the forest, the one with high color andbrilliant eyes, the other impassive as ice. Now, all these thingsdid not escape Maurice, but he could not piece them together with anyresult. 

On the morning of the tenth day the two prisoners came down tobreakfast, wondering how much longer this house party was going to last. 

"George! I wish I had a pipe, " said Maurice. 

"So do I, " Fitzgerald echoed glumly. "I am tired of cigars and wearyof those eternal cigarettes. How the deuce are we going to get out ofthis?"

"What's your hurry? We're having a good time. "

"That's the trouble. Hang the duchess!"

"Hang her and welcome. But why do you complain to me and not to Madame?Are you afraid of her? Does she possess, then, what is called tamer'smagnetism? O, my lion, if only you would roar a bit more at her and lessat me!"

"I don't know what she possesses; but I do know that I'd give a deal tobe out of this. "

"Is the chambermaid idea bothering you?"

"No, Maurice, it is not the chambermaid. I feel oppressed by somethingwhich I can not define. "

"Maybe you are not used to tokay forty years old?"

"Wine has nothing to do with it. "

He was so serious that Maurice dropped his jesting tone. "By the way, "he said, "do you sleep soundly?"

"No. Every night I am awakened by the noise of a horse entering thecourt-yard. "

"So am I. Moreover, Madame seems to be troubled with the samesleeplessness. 

"Madame?"

"Yes. She is so troubled with sleeplessness that nothing will quiet herbut the sight of the man who rides the horse: all of which is to saythat a courier arrives each night with dispatches from Bleiberg. Now, totell the truth, the courier does not keep me awake half so much asthe thought of who is eating three meals a day at the end of the eastcorridor on the third floor. But there are Madame and the countess; wehave kept them waiting. "

"Good morning, " said Madame, smiling as they came up. "And how have youslept?"

"Nothing wakes me but the roll of the drum or thunder, " answeredFitzgerald diffidently. 

"I dream of horses, " said Maurice carelessly. 

"Bon jour, M. Le Capitaine!" cried the countess. Then she added witha light laugh: "Come, let me try you. Portons armes! Presentonsarmes!--How beautifully you do it!--Par le flanc gauche! Enavant--marche!"

Maurice swung, clicked his heels and, with a covert glance at Madame, led the way into the dining hall, whistling, "Behold the saber of myfather!"

"Ah, I do not see the Colonel, " said Maurice; for night and day the oldsoldier had been with them. 

"He has gone to Brunnstadt, " said Madame, "but will return thisevening. "

The breakfast was short and merry. Words passed across the table thatwere as crisp as the toast. Maurice remarked the advent of two liveriedservants, stolid Germans by the way, who, as he afterward found, did notunderstand French. 

"So the Colonel has gone to Brunnstadt?" said Maurice; which was a longway of asking why the Colonel had gone to Brunnstadt. 

"Yes, " said Madame; "he has gone to consult Madame the duchess to seewhat shall be done to you, Monsieur. "

"To be done to me?" ignoring the challenge in her eyes. 

"Yes. You must not forget that you promised me your sword, and I havetaken the liberty of presenting it to her Highness. "

"I remember nothing about promising my sword, " said Maurice, gazingceiling-ward. 

"What! There was a mental reservation?"

"No, Madame. I remember my words only too well. I said that I lovedadventure, thoughtless youth that I was, and that I was easy to befound. Which is all true, and part proved, since I am here. "

"Still, the uniform fits you exceedingly well. The hussars hold a highplace at court. "

"Madame, " replied he pleasantly, "I appreciate the honor, but at presentmy sword and fealty are sworn to my own country. And besides, I have nodesire to take part in the petty squabble between this country and thekingdom. "

The forecast of a storm lay in Madame's gray eyes. 

"Eh? You wish to placate me, Madame?" thought Maurice. 

"He is right, Madame, " interposed the countess. "But away with politics!It spoils all it touches. "

"And away with the duchess, too, " put in Fitzgerald, reaching for abunch of yellow grapes. "With all due respect to your cause and beliefs, Madame the duchess, your mistress, is a bugbear to me. The very sound ofthe title arouses in my heart all that is antagonistic. "

"You have not seen her Highness, Monsieur, " said Madame, quietly. "Perhaps she is all that is desirable. She is known to be rich, herwill is paramount to all others. When she sets her heart on a thing sheleaves no stone unturned until she procures it. And, countess, dothey not say of her that she possesses something--an attribute--moredangerous than beauty--fascination?"

"Yes, Madame. "

"Madame the duchess, " said Maurice dryly, "has a stanch advocate in you, Madame. "

"It is not unnatural. "

"Be that as it may, " said Fitzgerald, "she is mine enemy. "

"Love your enemies, says the Book, " was the interposition of thecountess, who stole a sly glance at Maurice which he did not see. 

"That would not be difficult--in some cases, " replied the Englishman. 

"Ah, come, " thought Maurice, "my friend is beginning to pick up hislines. " Aloud he said: "Madame, will you confer a favor on me bypermitting me to inform my superior in Vienna of my whereabouts?"

"No, Monsieur; prisoners are not allowed to communicate with the outsideworld. Are you not enjoying yourself? Is not everything being done foryour material comfort? What complaint have you to offer?"

"A gilded cage is no less a cage. "

"It is but temporary. The duchess has commanded that you be held untilit is her pleasure to come to the chateau. O, Monsieur, where is yourgallantry? Here the countess and I have done so much to amuse you, andyou speak of a gilded cage!"

"Pretty bird! pretty bird!" said Maurice, in a piping voice, "will ithave some caraway?"

Madame laughed. "Well, I hear the grooms leading the horses under theporte cochere. Go, then, for the morning ride. I am sorry that I can notaccompany you. I have some letters to write. "

Fitzgerald curled his mustache. "I'll forswear the ride myself. Iwas reading a good book last night; I'll finish it, and keep Madamecompany. "

Madame trifled with the toast crumbs. Fitzgerald's profounddissimulation caused a smile to cross Maurice's lips. 

"Come, countess, " said Maurice, gaily; "we'll take the ride together, since Madame has to write and my lord to read. "

"Five minutes until I dress, " replied the countess, and she sped away. 

"What a beautiful girl!" said Madame, fondly. "Poor dear! Her life hasnot been a bed of roses. "

"No?" said Maurice, while Fitzgerald raised his eyebrows inquiringly. 

"No. She was formerly a maid of honor to her Highness. She made anunhappy marriage. "

"And where is the count?" asked Fitzgerald in surprise. He shot a glanceof dismay at Maurice, who, translating it, smiled. 

"He is dead. "

Fitzgerald looked relieved. 

"What a fine thing it is, " said Maurice, rising, "to be a man and wedwhere and how you will!" He withdrew to the main hall to don his capand spurs. As he stooped to strap the latter, he saw a sheet of paper, crinkled by recent dampness, lying on the floor. He picked it up--andread it. 

 "The plan you suggest is worthy of you, Madame. The Englishman is fair game, being a common enemy. Let us gain our ends through the heart, since his purse is impregnable to assaults. But the countess? Why not the pantry maid, since the other is an American? They lack discrimination. The king grows weaker every day. Nothing was found in the Englishman's rooms. I fear that the consols are in the safe at the British legation. As usual, a courier will arrive each night. B. "

"Why--not--the--pantry maid?" Maurice drawled. "That is flippant. " Heread the message again. "What plan?" Suddenly he struck his thigh. "ByGeorge, so that is it, eh, Madame? So that is why we are so comfortablylodged here? I am in the way, and you bait the hook with a countess!Since the purse will not lead the way, the heart, eh? Certainly I shalltell my lord the Englishman all about his hostess when I return from theride. Decidedly you are clever. O, how careless! Not even in cipher, sothat he who reads may run. And who is B. ?--Beauvais! Something told methat this man had a hand in the affair. I remember the look he gave me. A traitor, too. 

"Hang my memory, which seems always to forget what I wish to rememberand remember what I wish to forget! Where have I met this man Beauvaisbefore? Ah, the countess!" He thrust the message into his breast. "Evidently Madame thinks I am worth consideration; uncommonly prettybait. Shall I let the play run on, or shall I tell her? Ah! you havetwo minutes to spare, " he said, as she approached. "But you do not needthem, " throwing a deal of admiration into his glance. 

"It does not take me long to dress--on occasions. "

"A compliment to me?" he said. 

"If you will accept it. "

It was an exhilarating morning, full of forest perfumes. Through thehaze the mountains glittered like huge emeralds and amethysts. 

"What a day!" said the countess, as they galloped away. 

"Aye, for plots and war and love!"

"For plots and war?" demurely. Her cheeks were rosy and her hair asyellow as the silk of corn. 

"Well, then, for love. " He shortened his rein. "A propos, have you everbeen in love, countess?"

"I? What a question!"

"Have you?"

"N--no! Let us talk of plots and war, " gazing across the valley. 

"No; let us talk of love. I am in love, and one afflicted that waywishes a confidant. I appoint you mine. "

"Some rosy-cheeked peasant girl?" laughing. 

"Perhaps. Perhaps it's only a--a pantry maid, " with a sly look from thecorner of his eyes. Evidently she had not heard. She was still laughing. "I have heard of hermits falling in love with stars, and have laughed. Now I am in the same predicament. I love a star--"

"Operatic? To be sure! Mademoiselle Lenormand of the Royal Vienna is inBleiberg. How she keeps her age!"

It was Maurice's turn to laugh. 

"And that is why you came to Bleiberg! Ah, these opera singers, had I myway, they should all be aged and homely. "

"Countess, you are pulling the bit too hard, " said he. "I noticedyesterday that your horse has a very tender mouth. "

"Thank you. " She slacked the rein. "He was going too close to the ditch. You were saying--"

"No, it was you who were saying that all actresses should be aged andhomely. But it is not Mademoiselle Lenormand, it is not the peasant, northe pantry maid. "

This time she looked up quickly. 

"The woman I love is too far away, so I am going to give up thinking ofher. Countess, I made a peculiar discovery this morning. "

"A discovery, Monsieur? What is it?"

"Do you see that fork in the road, a mile away? When we reach it andturn I'll tell you what it is. If I told you now it might spoil theride. What a day, truly! How clear everything is! And the air is likewine. " He drew in deep breaths. 

"Let us hurry and reach the fork in the road; my curiosity is stiflingme. "

Maurice did not laugh as she expected he would. As she observed thethoughtful frown between his brows, a shiver of dread ran through her. It did not take long to cover the intervening mile. They turned, and thehorses fell into a quick step. 

"Now, Monsieur; please!"

After all. .. But he quelled the gentle tremor in his heart. A monthago, had he known her, he might now have told her altogether a differentstory. He could see that she had not an inkling of what was to come (forhe had determined to tell her); and he vaguely wondered if he shouldbring humiliation to the dainty creature. It would be like nickinga porcelain cup. Her brows were arched inquisitively and her lipspuckered. .. . He had had a narrow escape. 

He drew the message from his breast, leaned across and handed it to her. 

"Why, what is this, Monsieur?"

"Read it and see. " And he busied himself with the tangled mane of hishorse. When they had ridden several yards, he heard her voice. 

"Here, Monsieur. " The hand was extended, but the face was averted. 

"Countess, you are too charming a woman to lend yourself to suchschemes. "

There was no reply. 

"Did you not volunteer to make me fall in love with you to keep me frominterfering with Madame's plans?" It was brutal, but he was compelled tosay it. 

Silence. 

"Did you not?" he persisted. "When one writes such messages as these, one should use an intricate cipher. Had I been other than a prisoner, what I have done would not be the act of a gentleman. But I am aprisoner; I must defend myself. To rob a man through his love! Andsuch a man! He is a very infant in the hands of a woman. He has been asoldier all his life. All women to him are little less than angels; heknows nothing of their treachery, their deceit, their false smiles. Itwill be an easy victory, or rather it would have been, for I shall do mybest to prevent it. Madame is not unknown to me; I have been waiting tosee what meant this peculiar house party. 

"Perhaps I am now too late. Madame distrusts me. I dare say she has herreasons. She went to you. You were to occupy me. I was young, I likedthe society of women, I was gay and careless. She has decked me out asone would deck a monkey (and doubtless she calls me one behind my back), and has offered me a sword to play with. 

"In America, when a man puts a sword in his hand, it is to killsomebody. Here--aye, all over the continent, for that matter--swords arebaubles for young nobles, used to slash each other in love affairs. Irespect and admire you; had I not done so, I should not have spoken. Countess, be frank with me, as frank as I have been with you; have I notguessed rightly?"

"Yes, Monsieur, " her head bowed and her cheeks white. "Yes, yes! it wasa miserable game. But I love Madame; I would sacrifice my pride and myheart for her, if need be. "

"I can believe that. "

"And believe me when I say that the moment I saw you, I knew that myconduct was going to be detestable. But I had given my promise. A womanhas but little to offer to her country; I have offered my pride, and Iam a proud woman, Monsieur. I am ashamed. I am glad that you spoke, forit was becoming unbearable to throw myself at a man whose heart I knewintuitively to be elsewhere. " She raised her eyes, which were filledwith a strange luster. "Will you forgive me, Monsieur?"

"With all my heart. For now I know that we shall be friends. You willbe relieved of an odious part; for you are too handsome not to have inkeeping some other heart besides your own. "

He then began gaily to describe some of his humorous adventures, andcontinued in this vein till they arrived once more at the chateau. Sometimes the countess laughed, but he could see that her sprightlinesswas gone. When they came under the porte cochere he sprang from hishorse and assisted her to dismount; and he did not relinquish her handtill he had given it a friendly pressure. She stood motionless on thesteps, centered a look on him which he failed to interpret, then ranswiftly into the hall, thence to her room, the door of which she bolted. 

"It would not be difficult, " he mused, communing with the thought whichhad come to him. "It would be something real, and not a chimera. "

He turned over the horses to the grooms, and went in search ofFitzgerald to inform him of his discovery; but the Englishman wasnowhere to be found. Neither was Madame. Being thirsty, he proceeded tothe dining hall. Fadette, the maid, was laying the silver. 

"Ah, the `pantry maid, '" he thought. "Good day, Fadette. "

"Does Monsieur wish for something?"

"A glass of water. Thanks!"

She retreated and kept her eyes lowered. 

"Fadette, you are charming. Has any one ever told you that?"

"O, Monsieur!" blushing. 

"Have they?" lessening the distance between them. 

"Sometimes, " faintly. She could not withstand his glance, so she retireda few more steps, only to find herself up with the wall. 

With a laugh he sprang forward and caught her face between his hands andimprinted a kiss on her left cheek. Suddenly she wrenched herself loose, uttered a frightened cry and fled down the pantryway. 

"What's the matter with the girl?" he muttered aloud. "I wanted to askher some questions. "

"Ask them of me, Monsieur, " said a voice from the doorway. 

Maurice wheeled. It was Madame, but her face expressed nothing. He sawthat he had been caught. The humor of the situation got the better ofhim, and he laughed. Madame ignored this unseemly hilarity. 

"Monsieur, is this the way you return my kindness?"

"Permit me to apologize. As to your kindness, I have just discoveredthat it is of a most dangerous quality. "

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I could not kiss Madame the countess with the same sense ofsecurity as I could the--pantry maid, " bowing. 

Just now Madame's face expressed a good deal. "Of what are you talking?"advancing a step. 

"I had in mind what our friend, Colonel Beauvais, remarked in his recentdispatch: I know no discrimination. The fact is, I do. I found thedispatch on the floor this morning. Allow me to return it to you. I havekept silent, Madame, because I did not know how to act. "

"You have dared--?" her lips pressed and her eyes thunderous. 

"To read it? Aye. I am a prisoner; it was in self-defense. Madame, youdo me great honor. A countess! What consideration to the indiscriminate!Au revoir, then, till luncheon;" and he left the room, whistling--

Voici le sabre de mon pere!

CHAPTER XI. THE DENOUEMENT

At no time during the afternoon did Maurice find the opportunity tospeak privately to Fitzgerald. Madame hovered about, chatting, smilingand humming snatches of song. She seemed to have formed a suddenattachment for Maurice; that is to say, she could not bear to lose sightof him, not for the briefest moment. 

He swallowed his chagrin, for he could but confess that it wassugar-coated. Madame had at last considered his case, and had labeledhim dangerous. Somehow a man always likes to be properly valued. Itre-establishes his good opinion of himself. 

Well, well; however affectionate Madame might be, she could scarcelycarry it beyond the threshold of his chamber, and he was determined toretire at an early hour. But he had many things to learn. 

Fitzgerald was abandoned to the countess, who had still much color toregain. From time to time the Englishman looked over his shoulder to seewhat was going on between Madame and his friend, and so missed half ofwhat the countess said. 

"Come, " thought Maurice, "it is time I made a play. "

The blackberries were ripe along the stone walls which surrounded thechateau. Maurice wandered here and there, plucking what fruit he couldfind. Now and then he would offer a branch to Madame. At length, asthough by previous arrangement with Madame, the countess led Fitzgeraldaround to the other side of the chateau, so that Madame and Maurice werealone. Immediately the smile, which had rested on her lips, vanished. Her companion was gazing mountainward, and cogitating. How fared thosein Bleiberg?

"What a beautiful world it is!" said a low, soft voice close to his ear. 

Maurice resumed his berry picking. 

"What exquisite tints in the skies!" went on the voice; "what matchlesscolor in the forests!"

Maurice plucked a berry, ate it, and smacked his lips. It was a goodberry. 

"But what a terrible thing it would be if one should die suddenly, orbe thrown into a windowless dungeon, shut out from all these splendidreaches?"

Maurice plucked another berry, but he did not eat it. Instinctively heturned--and met a pair of eyes as hard and cold and gray as new steel. 

"That, " said he, "sounds like a threat. "

"And if it were, Monsieur, and if it were?"

"If it were, I should say that you had discovered that I know too much. I suspected from the first; the picture merely confirmed my suspicions. I see now that it was thoughtless in me not to have told my friend; butit is not too late. "

"And why, I ask, have I not suppressed you before this?"

"Till to-day, Madame, you had not given me your particularconsideration. " Then, as if the conversation was not interesting him, hereturned to the berries. "There's a fine one there. It's a little high;but then!" He tiptoed, drew the branch from the wall, and snatched theluscious fruit. "Ah!"

"Monsieur, attend to me; the berries can wait. "

"Madame, the life of a good blackberry is short. "

"To begin with, you say that I did not show you consideration. Fewprinces have been shown like consideration. "

"I was wrong. It is not every man that has a countess--and a pretty one, too!--thrown at his head. "

Madame was temporarily silenced by this retort; it upset hercalculations. She scrutinized the clean, smooth face, and she saw lineswhich had hitherto escaped her notice. She was at last convinced thatshe had to contend with a man, a man who had dealt with both men andwomen. How deep was he? Could honors, such as she could give, andmoney plumb the depths?. .. He was an American. She smiled the smile ofduplicity. 

"Monsieur, " she said, "do you lack wealth?"

"Yes, I lack it; but that is not to say that I desire it. "

"Perhaps it is honors you desire?"

"Honors? To what greater honor may I aspire than that which is writtenin my passports?"

"What is written in your passports?"

"That I am a citizen of the United States of America. It would not begood taste in me to accept honors save those that my country may chooseto confer. "

Again Madame found her foil turned aside. She began to lose patience. Her boot patted the sod. "Monsieur, since the countess is not highenough, since gold and honors have no charm, listen. "

"I am listening, Madame. "

"I permit you to witness the comic opera, but I shall allow no promptingfrom outsiders. "

"Madame, do you expect me to sit calmly by and see my friend made afool?" He spoke warmly and his eyes remained steadfast. 

"Certainly that is what you shall do, " coldly. 

"Madame, you are a beautiful woman; heaven has endowed you withsomething more than beauty. Is it possible that the gods forgot to mixconscience in the mold?"

"Conscience? Royalty knows none. "

"Ah, Madame, wait till you are royal. "

"Take care. You have not felt my anger. "

"I would rather that than your love. "

She marveled at her patience. 

"If you have no conscience, Madame, I have. I shall warn him. You shallnot dishonor him if I can prevent it. You wish to win his love, and youhave gauged the possibilities of it so accurately that you know you willhave but to ask, be it his honor or his life. A far finer thing it wouldbe for you to win your crown at the point of the sword. There would bea little glory in it then. But even then, the world would laugh at you. For you would be waging war against a lonely woman, a paralytic king, aprelate who is a man of peace. What resistance could these three offer?

"But to gain your ends by treachery and deceit, to rob a man of hisbrains and heart, laughing the while in your sleeve; to break his lifeand make him curse all women, from Eve to you and the mother who borehim! Ah, Madame, let me plead with you. Give him his liberty. Let himgo back and complete the task imposed on him. Do not break his life, for life is more than a crown; do not compel him to sully his honor, forhonor is more than life. 

"Your cause is just, I will admit, but do not tarnish it by suchdetestable means. 'Tis true that a crown to me signifies nothing, butlife and honor are common to us both. With all his strength and courage, my friend is helpless. All his life he has been without the society ofwomen. If he should love you--God help him! His love would be withoutcalculation, without reason, blind and furious. Madame, do not destroyhim. "

Sometimes, in the passing, we are stopped by the sound of a voice. Itis not the words it utters, nor the range nor tone. It is somethingindefinable, and, though we can not analyze it, we are willing to followwherever it leads. Such a voice Maurice possessed, though he was totallyignorant of its power. But Madame, as she listened, felt its magicinfluence, and for a moment the spell rendered her mute. 

"Monsieur, you have missed your vocation; you plead well, indeed. Unfortunately, I can not hear; my ears are of wax. No, no! I havenourished these projects too long; they are a part of me. Laughed at, you say? Have I not been laughed at from one end of the continent tothe other?" passionately. "It is my turn now, and woe to those who havedared to laugh. I shall sweep all obstacles away; nothing shall stop me. Mine the crown is, and mine it shall be. I am a woman, and I wished toavoid bloodshed. But not even that shall stay me; not even love!" Herbosom heaved, her hands were clenched, and her gray eyes flashed liketroubled waters in the sunlight. 

"Madame, if you love him--"

"Well?" proudly. 

"No, I am wrong. If you loved him you would prize above all else thishonor of which you intend to rob him. "

"I brought you here not to discuss whether I am right or wrong. Lookabout you. "

Maurice was somewhat troubled to discover several troopers loungingabout just out of earshot. They were so arranged as to prevent egressfrom the park. He looked thoughtfully at the wall. It was eight feet inheight. 

Madame saw the look, and said, "Corporal!"

There was a noise on the other side of the wall, and presently a headbobbed up. 

"Madame?" inquired the head. 

"Nothing. I wished to know if you were at your post. " She turnedto Maurice, who was puzzled to know what all this was preamble to. "Monsieur Carewe, I never forget details. I had an idea that whenI submitted my proposals to you, you might be tempted to break yourparole. "

Maurice gnawed his lip. "Proceed, Madame. "

"There are only two. If you do not promise here and now in no way tointerfere with my plans, these troopers will convey you to Brunnstadt, where you will be kept in confinement until the succession to thethrone is decided one way or the other. The other proposal is, if youpromise--and I have faith in your word--the situation will continue thesame as at present. Choose, Monsieur. Which is it to be?"

The devil gleamed in his eyes. He remained silent. 

"Well! Well!" impatiently. 

"I accept the alternative, " with bad grace. "If I made a dash--"

"You would be shot; those were my orders. "

"And if I went to prison--"

"You would miss what you call the comic opera, but which to me is allthere is in life. You say that I have read your friend well. That istrue. Do you think that it is easy for me to lessen myself in my owneyes? No woman lives who is prouder than I. Remember, you are not tohint at what I propose to do, nor who I am. See! It is all because youread something which was not intended for your eyes. Be my friend, or bemy enemy, it is a matter of indifference to me. You have only yourselfto blame. Had you gone about your business and not intruded whereyou were not wanted, neither you nor your friend would be here. Nointerference from you, Monsieur; that is the understanding. " She raisedher hand and made a sign, and the troopers took themselves off. "Now youmay go--to the countess, if you wish; though I dare say that she willnot find you in the best of tempers. "

"I dare say she won't, " said Maurice. 

Fitzgerald sat by a window in the music room. He had resurrected from noone knew where a clay with a broken stem. There was a thoughtful castto his countenance, and he puffed away, blissfully unconscious of, orindifferent to, the close proximity of the velvet curtains. A thriftyhousewife, could she have seen the smoke rise and curl and lose itselfin the folds above, would have experienced the ecstasy of anxiety andperturbation. But there was no thrifty housewife at the Red Chateau, nothing but dreams of conquest and revenge. 

Twilight was gathering about, soft-footed and shadowful. Long reachesof violet and vermilion clouds pressed thickly on the western line ofhills. The mists began to rise, changing from opal to sapphire. Thefantastic melodies of wandering gypsy songs went throbbing through theroom; rollicking gavots, Hungarian dances, low and slumbrous nocturnes. As the music grew sadder and dreamier, the smoker moved uneasily. 

Somehow, it gripped his heart; and the long years of loneliness returnedand overwhelmed him. They marshaled past, thirteen in all; and therewere glimpses of deserts, snowcapped mountains, men moving in the blurof smoke, long watches in the night. Thirteen years in God-forsakenoutposts, with never a sight of a woman's face, the sound of her voice, the swish of her gown, nor a touch of the spell which radiates from herpresence. 

He had never made friends. Others had come up to him and passed him, andhad gone to the cities, leaving him to bear the brunt of the cold, the heat, the watchfulness. He had made his bed; he was too much hisfather's son to whine because it was hard. Often he used to think how afew words, from a pride humbled, would have removed the barrier. But thewords never came, nor was the pride ever humbled. 

Out of all the thirteen years he could remember only six months ofpleasure. He had been transferred temporarily to Calcutta, where hisColonel, who had received secret information concerning him, had treatedhim like a gentleman, and had employed him as regimental interpreter, for he spoke French and German and a smattering of Indian tongues. During his lonely hours he had studied, for he knew that some day hewould be called upon to administer a vast fortune. .. . He laid the pipeon the sill, rested his elbows beside it, and dropped his chin in hishands. What a fool he had been to waste the best years of his life! Hisfather would have opened to him a boundless career; he would have seenthe world under the guidance of a master hand. And here he was to-day, the possessor of millions, a beggar in friends, no niche to fill, awanderer from place to place. 

The old pile in England, he never wished to see it again; the memorieswhich it would arouse would be too bitter. .. . The shade of Beethoventouched him as it passed; Mozart, Mendelssohn, Chopin. But he wasthinking only of his loneliness, and the marvelous touch of the handswhich evoked the great spirits was lost upon him. 

Maurice was seated in one of the gloomy corners. He had still much goodhumor to recover. He pulled at his lips, and wondered from time to timewhat was going on in Fitzgerald's head. Poor devil! he thought; couldhe resist this woman whose accomplishments were so varied that at onemoment she could overthrow a throne and at the next play Phyllis to somestrolling Corydon? Since he himself, who knew her, could entertain forher nothing but admiration, what hope was there for the Englishman? Whata woman! She savored of three hundred years off. To plan by herself, toarrange the minutest detail, and above all to wait patiently! Patiencehas never been the attribute of a woman of power; Madame possessed bothpatience and power. 

The countess was seated in another dark corner. Suddenly she arose andsaid, in a voice blended with great trouble and impatience: "For pity'ssake, Madame, cease those dirges! Play something lively; I am sad. "

The music stopped, but presently began again. Maurice leaned forward. Madame was playing Chopin's polonaise. He laughed silently. He was inMadame's thoughts. It struck him, however, that the notes had a defiantring. 

"Lights!" called Madame, rising from the stool. 

Immediately a servant entered with candles and retired. Maurice, whenhis eyes had grown accustomed to the lights, scanned the three faces. Madame's was radiant. Fitzgerald's was a mixture--a comical mixture--ofcontent and enjoyment, but the countess's was as colorless as the waxin the candlesticks. He asked himself what other task she had to performthat she should take so long to recover her roses. Had the knowledge ofher recent humiliation been too much for her?

She was speaking to him. "Monsieur, will you walk with me in the park? Iam faint. "

"Are you ill, countess?" asked Madame, coming up and placing her handunder the soft round chin of the other and striving to read her eyes. 

"Not so ill, Madame, that a breath of fresh air will not revive me. "When they had gained the park, the countess said to Maurice: "Monsieur, I have brought you here to tell you something. I fear that your friendis lost, for you can do nothing. "

"Not even if I break my word?" he asked. 

"It would do no good. "

"Why?"

"It is too late, " lowly. "I have been Madame's understudy too long notto read. Forgive me. I was to keep you apart; I have done so. Theevil can not now be repaired. Your hope is that Madame has not fullyconsidered his pride. "

"Has she any regard for him?"

"Sentiment?--love?" She uttered a short, incredulous laugh. "Madame hasbrain, not heart. Could a woman with a heart plan as she plans?"

"Well, let us not talk of plots and plans; let us talk of--"

"Monsieur, do not be unkind. I have asked your forgiveness. Let us nottalk; let us be silent and listen to the night;" and she leaned over theterrace balustrade. 

Maurice floated. As he leaned beside her a strand of perfumed hair blewacross his nostrils. . .. The princess was at best a dream. It was notlikely that he ever would speak to her again. The princess was a poem, unlettered and unrhymed. But here, close to him, was a bit of beautifulmaterial prose. The hair again blew out toward him and he moved hislips. She heard the vague sound and lifted her head. 

Far away came the call of the sentry; a horse whinneyed in the stables. There was in the air the odor of an approaching storm. 

CHAPTER XII. WHOM THE GODS DESTROY AND A FEW OTHERS

Some time passed before Fitzgerald became aware of Maurice's departure. When he saw that he and Madame were alone, he said nothing, but pulledall the quicker at his clay. He wondered at the desire which suddenlymanifested itself. Fly? Why should he fly? The beat of his pulseanswered him. .. . What a fine thing it was to feel the presence of awoman--a woman like this! What a fine thing always to experience thecontent derived from her nearness!

He looked into his heart; there was no animosity; there was nothing atall but a sense of gratefulness. In the dreary picture of his life therewas now an illumined corner. He had ceased to blame her; she was doingfor her country what he, did necessity so will, would do for his. Andafter all, he could not war against a woman--a woman like this. Hisinnate chivalry was too deep-rooted. 

How soft her voice was! The color of her hair and eyes followed himnight and day. Once he had been on the verge of sounding Maurice inregard to Madame, Maurice was so learned in femininities; but thiswould have been an acknowledgment of his ignorance, and pride closedhis mouth. It was all impossible, but then, why should he return to hisloneliness without attempting to find some one to share it with him? Theking was safe; his duty was as good as done; his conscience was atease in that direction. He needed not love, he thought, so much assympathy. .. . Sympathy. He turned over the word in his mind as a gemmerchant turns over in his hand a precious jewel. Sympathy; it was thekey to all he desired--woman's sympathy. There was nothing but ash inthe bowl of his pipe, but he continued to puff. 

Madame was seated at the piano again, idly thrumming soft minor chords. She was waiting for him to speak; she wanted to test his voice, to knowand measure its emotion. At times she turned her head and shot a slyglance at him as he sat there musing. There was a wrinkle of contemptand amusement lurking at the corners of her eyes. Had Maurice been therehe would have seen it. Fitzgerald might have gazed into those eyes untildoomsday, and never have seen else than their gray fathoms. Minute afterminute passed, still he did not speak; and Madame was forced to breakthe monotony. She was not sure that the countess could hold Maurice verylong. 

"Of what are you thinking, Monsieur?" she asked, in a soft key. 

He started, looked up and laid the pipe on the sill. "Frankly, I wasthinking that nothing can be gained by keeping us prisoners here. " Hetold the lie rather diffidently. 

"Not even forgiveness?" The lids of the gray eyes drooped and the musicceased. 

"Forgiveness? O, there is nothing to forgive you; it is only yourmistress I can not forgive. On the contrary, there is much to thank youfor. "

"Still, whatever I do or have done is merely in accordance with herHighness's wishes. "

He moved uneasily. "It is her will, not yours. "

"Yes; the heart of Madame Amerbach is supine to the brain of Madame theduchess. " She rose and moved silently to the window and peered out. Hethought her to be star-gazing; but she was not. She was endeavoring tosee where Maurice and the countess were. 

"Madame, shall I tell you a secret?"

"A secret? Tell me, " sitting in the chair next to his. 

"This has been the pleasantest week I have known in thirteen years. "

"Then you forgive me!" Madame was not only mistress of music but oftones. 

"Yes. "

And then, out of the fullness of his lonely heart, he told her all abouthis life, its emptiness, its deserts, its longings. Each sentence was aknife placed in her hands; and as she contemplated his honest face whichcould conceal nothing, his earnest eyes which could hide nothing, Madamewas conscious of a vague distrust of herself. If only he had offered tofight, she thought. But he had not; instead, he was giving to her allhis weapons of defense. 

"Ah, Monsieur, you do wrong to forgive me!" impulsively. 

He smiled. 

"Why should you be friendly to me when I represent all that isantagonistic to you?"

"To me you represent only a beautiful woman. "

"Ah; you have been taking lessons of your friend. "

"He is a good teacher. He is one of those men whom I admire. Women havenever mastered him. He knows so much about them. "

"Yes?" a flicker in her eyes. 

"Beneath all his banter there is a brave heart. He is a rare man who, having brain and heart to guide, follows the heart. " He picked up thepipe and began to play a tattoo on the sill. "As for me, I know nothingof women, save what I have read in books, and save that I have been toolong without them. "

"And you have gone all these years without knowing what it is to love?"To a man less guileless, this question would not have been in goodtaste. 

Fitzgerald was silent; he dared not venture another lie. 

"What! you are silent? Is there, after all, a woman somewhere in yourlife?"

"Yes. " He continued to tap the pipe. His gaze wandered to the candles, strayed back to the window, then met hers steadfastly, so steadfastly, that she could not resist. She was annoyed. 

"Tell me about her. "

"My vocabulary is too limited. You would laugh at me. "

"I? No; love is sacred. " She had boasted to Maurice that she was withoutconscience; she had only smothered it. "Come; is she beautiful?"

"Yes. " These questions disturbed him. 

"Certainly she must be worthy or you would not love her. She is rich?"

"That does not matter; I am. " He was wishing that Maurice would hurryback; the desire to fly was returning. 

"And she rejected you and sent you to the army?"

"She has not rejected me, though I dare say she would, had I thepresumption to ask her. "

"A faint heart, they say--"

"My heart is not faint; it is my tongue. " He rose and wandered about theroom. Her breath was like orris, and went to his head like wine. 

"Monsieur, " she said, "is it possible that you have succumbed to thecharms of Madame the countess?"

He laughed. "One may admire exquisite bric-a-brac without loving it. "

"Bric-a-brac! Poor Elsa!" and Madame laughed. "If it were the countess Icould aid you. "

"Love is not merchandise, to traffic with. "

Madame's cheeks grew warm. Sometimes the trick of fence is beaten downby a tyro's stroke. 

"Eh, bien, since it is not the countess--"

He came toward her so swiftly that instinctively she rose and movedto the opposite side of her chair. Something in his face caused her toshiver. She had no time to analyze its meaning, but she knew that theshiver was not unmixed with fear. 

"Madame, in God's name, do not play with me!" he cried. 

"Monsieur, you forget yourself, " for the moment forgetting her part. 

"Yes, there is no self in my thoughts since they are all of you! Youknow that I love you. Who could resist you? Thirteen years? They arewell wasted, in the end to love a woman like you. "

Before she could withdraw her hands from the top of the chair he hadseized them. 

"Monsieur, release me. " She struggled futilely. 

"I love you. " He began to draw her from behind the chair. 

"Monsieur, Monsieur!" she, cried, genuinely alarmed; "do not forget thatyou are a gentleman. "

"I am not a gentleman now; I am a man who loves. "

Madame was now aware that what she had aroused could not be subdued byangry words. 

"Monsieur, you say that you love me; do not degrade me by forcing meinto your arms. I am a woman, and weak, and you are hurting me. "

He let go her hands, and they stood there, breathing deeply and quickly. But for her it was a respite. She had been too precipitate. She broughttogether the subtle forces of her mind. She could gain nothing by force;she must use cunning. To hold him at arm's length, and yet to hold him, was her desire. She had reckoned on wax; a man stood before her. All atonce the flutter of admiration stirred in her heart. She was a soldier'sdaughter, the daughter of a man who loved strong men. And this man wasdoubly strong because he was fearless and honest. She read in his eyesthat a moment more and he had kissed her, a thing no man save her fatherhad ever done. 

"O, Monsieur, " she said lightly, "you soldiers are such forward lovers!You have not even asked me if I love you. " He made a move to regain herhands. "No, no!" darting behind the chair. "You must not take my hands;you do not realize how strong you are. I am not sure that my heartresponds to yours. "

"Tell me, what must I do?" leaning across the chair. 

"You must have patience. A woman must be wooed her own way, or not atall. What a whirlwind you are!"

"I would to heaven, " with a gesture indicative of despair, "that youhad kept me behind bars and closed doors. " He dropped his hands from thechair and sought the window, leaning his arms against the central frame. 

Madame had fully recovered her composure. She saw her way to the end. 

"It is true, " she said, "that I do not love you, but it is also truethat I am not indifferent to you. What proof have I that you really loveme? None, save your declaration; and that is not sufficient for a womansuch as I am. Shall I place my life in your hands for better or forworse, simply because you say you love me?"

"My love does not reason, Madame. "

She passed over this stroke. "I do not know you; it is not less thannatural for me to doubt you. What proof have I that your declarationof love is not a scheme to while away your captivity at my expense?My heart is not one to be taken by storm. There is only one road to myaffections; it is narrow. Other men have made love to me, but they havehesitated to enter upon this self-same road. "

"Love that demands conditions? I have asked none. "

Madame blushed. "A man offers love; a woman confers it. "

"And what is this narrow road called which leads to your affections? Isyour heart a citadel?"

"It is called sacrifice. Those who dwell in my heart, which you call acitadel, enter by that road. "

"Sacrifice?" Fervor lighted his face again. "Do you wish my fortune? Itis yours. My life? It is yours. Do you wish me to lead the army of theduchess into Bleiberg? It shall be done. Sacrifice? I have sacrificedthe best years of youth for nothing; my life has been made up ofsacrifices. "

"Monsieur, if I promised to listen to you here-after, if I promised aheart that has never known the love of man, if I promised lips that havenever known the lips of any man save my father--" She moved away fromthe chair, within an arm's length of him. "If I promised all thesewithout reservation, would you aid me to give back to the duchess herown?"

Instantly her arms were pinioned to her sides, and he had drawn her soclose that she could feel his heart beat against her own. 

"Have no fear, " he said. The voice was unfamiliar to her ears. "I shallnot kiss you. Let me look into your eyes, Madame, your eyes, and readthe lie which is written there. My fortune and my life are not enough. Keep your love, Madame; I have no wish to purchase it. What! if Isurrender my honor it is agreed that you surrender yours? A love such asmine requires a wife. You would have me break my word to the dead andto the living, and you expect me to believe in your promises! Faugh!" Hepushed her from him, and resumed his stand by the window. 

The hate of a thousand ancestors surged into her heart, and she wouldhave liked to kill him. Mistress! He had dared. He had dared to speak toher as no other man living or dead had dared. And he lived. All thatwas tigerish in her soul rose to the surface; only the thought of theglittering goal stayed the outburst. She had yet one weapon. A minutewent by, still another; silence. A hand was laid tremblingly on his arm. 

"Forgive me! I was wrong. Love me, love me, if you must. Keep yourhonor; love me without conditions. I--" She stumbled into the chair, covered her eyes and fell to weeping. 

Fitzgerald, dumfounded and dismayed, looked down at the beautiful head. He could fight angry words, tempests of wrath--but tears, a woman'stears, the tears of the woman he loved!

"Madame, " he said gently, "do you love me?"

No answer. 

"Madame, for God's sake, do not weep! Do you love me? If you love me--ifyou love me--"

She sprang to her feet. Once again she experienced that shiver; againher conscience stirred. 

"I do not know, " she said. "But this I may say: your honor, which youhold above the price of a woman's love, will be the cause of bloodshed. Mothers and wives and sisters will execrate your name, brave men will besacrificed needlessly. What are the Osians to you? They are strangers. You will do for them, and uselessly, what you refuse to do for the womanyou profess to love. I abhor bloodshed. Your honor is the offspring ofpride and egotism. Can you not see the inevitable? War will be declared. You can not help Leopold; but you can save him the degradation of beingexpelled from his throne by force of arms. The army of the duchess istrue to its humblest sword. Can you say that for the army of the king?Would you witness the devastation of a beautiful city, by flame andsword?

"Monsieur, Austria is with us, and she will abide with us whicheverway we move. Austria, Monsieur, which is Leopold's sponsor. And thisLeopold, is he a man to sit upon a throne? Is he a king in any sense ofthe word? Would a king submit to such ignominy as he submits to withoutstriking a blow? Would he permit his ministers to override him? Would hepermit his army to murmur, his agents to plunder, his people to laughat him, if he possessed one kingly attribute? No, no! If you were king, would you allow these things? No! You would silence all murmurs, youwould disgorge your agents, you would throttle those who dared to laugh. 

"Put yourself in the duchess's place. All these beautiful lands are hersby right of succession; is she wrong to desire them? What does she wishto accomplish? She wishes to join the kingdom and the duchy, and to makea great kingdom, as it formerly was. Do you know why Leopold was seatedupon the throne?

"Some day the confederation will decide to divide all these lands intotidbits, and there will be no one to oppose them. Madame the duchesswishes to be strong enough to prevent it. And you, Monsieur, are thegrain of sand which stops all this, you and your pride. Not even awoman's love--There, I have said it!--not even a woman's love--will moveyour sense of justice. Go! leave me. Since my love is nothing, sincethe sacrifice I make is useless, go; you are free!" The tears which cameinto her eyes this time were genuine; tears of chagrin, vexation, and ofa third sensation which still remained a mystery to her. 

To him, as she spoke, with her wonderful eyes flashing, a rich colorsuffusing her cheeks and throat and temples, the dim candle lightbreaking against the ruddy hair; honor or pride, whichever it was, waswell worth the losing. He was a man; it is only the pope who is said tobe infallible. His honor could not save the king. All she had said wastrue. If he held to his word there would be war and bloodshed. 

On the other hand, if he surrendered, less harm would befall the king, and the loss of his honor--was it honor?--would be well recompensed forthe remainder of his days by the love of this woman. His long years ofloneliness came back; he wavered. He glanced first at her, then at thedoor; one represented all that was desirable in the world, the othermore loneliness, coupled with unutterable regret. Still he wavered, andfinally he fell. 

"Madame, will you be my wife?"

"Yes. " And it seemed to her that the word, came to her lips by novolition of hers. As she had grown red but a moment gone, she now grewcorrespondingly pale, and her limbs shook. She had irrevocably committedherself. "No, no!" as she saw him start forward with outstretched arms, "not my lips till I am your wife! Not my lips; only my hands!"

He covered them with kisses. 

"Hush!" as she stepped back. 

It was time. Maurice and the countess entered the room. Mauriceglanced from Madame to Fitzgerald and back to Madame; he frowned. TheEnglishman, who had never before had cause to dissemble, caught up hispipe and fumbled it. This act merely discovered his embarrassment to thekeen eyes of his friend. He had forgotten all about Maurice. What wouldhe say? Maurice was something like a conscience to him, and his heartgrew troubled. 

"Madame, " Maurice whispered to the countess, "I have lost all faith inyou; you have kept me too long under the stars. "

"Confidences?" said Madame, with a swift inquiring glance at thecountess. 

"O, no, " said Maurice. "I simply complained that Madame the countesshad kept me too long under the stars. But here is Colonel Mollendorf, freshly returned from Brunnstadt to inform you that the army is fullyprepared for any emergency. Is not that true, Colonel?" as he beheldthat individual standing in the doorway. 

"Yes; but how the deuce--your pardon, ladies!--did you find that out?"demanded the Colonel. 

"I guessed it, " was the answer. "But there will be no need of an armynow. Come, John, the Colonel, who is no relative of the king's ministerof police, has not the trick of concealing his impatience. He hassomething important to say to Madame, and we are in the way. Come along, AEneas, follow your faithful Achates; Thalia has a rehearsal. "

Fitzgerald thrust his pipe into a pocket. "Good night, Madame, " he saiddiffidently; "and you, countess. "

"Good night, Colonel, " sang out Maurice over his shoulder, and togetherthe pair climbed the stairs. 

Fitzgerald was at a loss how to begin, for something told him thatMaurice would demand an explanation, though the affair was none ofhis concern. He filled his pipe, fired it and tramped about the room. Sometimes he picked up the end of a window curtain and felt of it;sometimes he posed before one of the landscape oils. 

"You have something on your mind, " said Maurice, pulling off his hussarjacket and kicking it across the room. 

"Madame has promised to be my wife. "

"And the conditions?" curtly. 

Fitzgerald pondered over the other's lack of surprise. "What would youdo if you loved a woman and she promised to be your wife?"

"I'd marry her, " sitting down at the table. 

"What would you do in my place, and Madame had promised to marry you?"puffing quickly. 

"I'd marry her, " answered Maurice, banging his fist on the table, "evenif all the kings and queens of Europe rose up against me. I would marryher, if I had to bind her hands and feet and carry her to the altar andforce the priest at the point of a pistol, which, in all probability, iswhat you will have to do. "

"I love her, " sullenly. 

"Do you know who she is?"

"No. "

"Would it make any difference?"

"No. Who is she?"

"She is a woman without conscience; she is a woman who, to gain hermiserable ends, will stop neither at falsehood, deceit nor bloodshed. Doyou want me to tell you more? She is--"

"Maurice, tell me nothing which will cause me to regret your friendship. I love her; she has promised to be my wife. "

"She will ruin you. "

"She has already done that, " laconically. 

"Do you mean to tell me--"

"Yes! For the promise of her love I am dishonored. For the privilegeof kissing her lips I have sold my honor. To call her mine, I would gothrough hell. God! do you know what it is to be lonely, to starve inGod-forsaken lands, to dream of women, to long for them?"

"And the poor paralytic king?"

"What is he to me?"

"And your father?"

"What are my dead father's wishes? Maurice, I am mad!"

"You are a very sick man, " Maurice replied crossly. "What's to become ofall these vows--"

"You are wasting your breath! Do you remember what Rochefoucauld saidof Madame de Longueville?--`To win her heart, to delight her beautifuleyes, I have taken up arms against the king; I would have done the sameagainst the gods!' Is she not worth it all?" with a gesture of his armswhich sent the live coals of his pipe comet-like across the interveningspace. "Is she not worth it all?"

"Who?--Madame de Longueville? I thought she was dead these two hundredyears!"

"Damn it, Maurice!"

"I will, if you say so. The situation is equal to a good deal of plain, honest damning. " Maurice banged his fist again. "John, sit down andlisten to me. I'll not sit still and see you made a fool. Promises?This woman will keep none. When she has wrung you dry she will flingyou aside. At this moment she is probably laughing behind your back. You were brought here for this purpose. Threats and bribes were withouteffect. Love might accomplish what the other two had failed to do. Youknow little of the ways of the world. Do you know that this house partyis scandalous, for all its innocence? Do you know that Madame's namewould be a byword were it known that we have been here more than twoweeks, alone with two women? Who but a woman that feels herself aboveconvention would dare offer this affront to society? Do you know whyMadame the countess came? Company for Madame? No; she was to play makelove to me to keep me out of the way. Ass that I was, I never suspectedtill too late! Madame's name is not Sylvia Amerbach; it is--"

The door opened unceremoniously and in walked the Colonel. 

"Your voices are rather high, gentlemen, " he said calmly, and sat downin an easy chair. 

CHAPTER XIII. BEING OF COMPLICATIONS NOT RECKONED ON

Maurice leaped to his feet, a menace in his eyes. The Colonel crossedhis legs, rested his hands on the hilt of his saber, and smiled. 

"I could not resist the desire to have a friendly chat with you. "

"You have come cursed inopportune, " snarled Maurice. "What do you want?"

"I want to give you the countersigns, so that when you start forBleiberg to-morrow morning you'll have no trouble. "

"Bleiberg!" exclaimed Maurice. 

"Bleiberg. Madame desires me to say to you that you are to start forthat city in the morning, to fetch those slips of parchment which havecaused us all these years of worry. Ah, my friend, " to Fitzgerald, "Madame would be cheap at twenty millions! You sly dog! And I neversuspected it. "

Fitzgerald sent him a scowl. "You are damned impertinent, sir. "

"Impertinent?" The Colonel uncrossed his legs and brought his kneestogether. "Madame has been under my care since she was a child, Monsieur; I have a fatherly interest in her. At any rate, I am glad thatthe affair is at an end. It was very noble in you. If I had had my way, though, it would have been war, pure and simple. I left the duchess inBrunnstadt this morning; she will be delighted to attend the wedding. "

"She will attend it, " said Maurice, grimly; "but I would not lay odds onher delight. Colonel, the devil take me if I go to Bleiberg on any sucherrand. " He went to the window seat. 

The Colonel rose and followed him. "Pardon me, " he said to Fitzgerald, who did not feel at all complimented by Madame's haste; "a few words inMonsieur Carewe's ear. He will go to Bleiberg; he will be glad to go. "He bent towards Maurice. "Go to Bleiberg, my son. A word to him aboutMadame, and off you go to Brunnstadt. Will you be of any use there?I think not. The little countess would cry out her pretty eyes if sheheard that you were languishing in the city prison at Brunnstadt, whereonly the lowest criminals are confined. Submit gracefully, that is tosay, like a soldier against whom the fortunes of war have gone. Go toBleiberg. "

"I'll go. I give up. " It was not the threat which brought him to thisdecision. It was a vision of a madonna-like face. "I'll go, John. Whereare the certificates?"

"Between the mattresses and the slats of my bed you will find a gun ina case. The certificates are in the barrels. " His countenance did notexpress any particular happiness; the lines about his mouth were sharperthan usual. 

"The devil!" cried the Colonel; "if only I had known that!" He laughed. "Well, I'll leave you. Six o'clock--what's this?" as he stooped andpicked up Maurice's cast-off hussar jacket. 

"I was about to use it as a door mat, " said Maurice, who was in a nastyhumor. That Fitzgerald had surrendered did not irritate him half somuch as the thought that he was the real puppet. His hands were tied, hecould not act, and he was one that loved his share in games. 

The Colonel reddened under his tan. "No; I'll not lose my temper, though this is cause enough. Curse me, but you lack courtesy. This is myuniform, and whatever it may be to you it is sacred to me. You were notforced into it; you were not compelled to wear it. What would you do ifa man wore your uniform and flung it around in this manner?"

"I'd knock him down, " Maurice admitted. "I apologize, Colonel; it wasnot manly. But you must make allowances; my good nature has suffered asevere strain. I'll get into my own clothes to-morrow if you will havea servant sew on some buttons and mend the collar. By the way, who iseating three meals a day in the east corridor on the third floor?"

Their glances fenced. The Colonel rubbed his mustache. 

"I like you, " he said; "hang me if I don't. But as well as I like you, I would not give a denier for your life if you were found in thatself-same corridor. The sentinel has orders to shoot; but don't let thatdisturb you; you will know sooner or later. It is better to wait than beshot. A horse will be saddled at six. You will find it in the court. Thecountersigns are Weixel and Arnoldt. Good luck to you. "

"The same to you, " rejoined Maurice, "only worse. "

The Colonel's departure was followed by a period of temporaryspeechlessness. Maurice smoked several "Khedives, " while Fitzgeraldemptied two or three pipe-bowls. 

"You seem to be in bad odor, Maurice, " the latter ventured. 

"In more ways than one. Where, in heaven's name, did you resurrect thatpipe?"

"In the stables. It isn't the pipe, it's the tobacco. I had to break upsome cigars. "

Then came another period in the conversation. It occurred to both thatsomething yawned between them--a kind of abyss. Out of this abyss onesaw his guilt arise. .. . A woman stood at his side. He had an accomplice. He had thrown the die, and he would stand stubbornly to it. His pridebuilt yet another wall around him, impregnable either to protests or tosneers. He loved--that was recompense enough. A man will forgive himselfof grave sins when these are debtors to his love. 

As for the other, he beheld a trust betrayed, and he was powerless toprevent it. Besides, his self-love smarted, chagrin made eyes at him;and, more than all else, he recognized his own share in the Englishman'sfall from grace. It had been innocent mischief on his part, true, butnevertheless he stood culpable. He had no business to talk to a woman hedid not know. The more he studied the aspects of the situation the morewhimsical it grew. He was the prime cause of a king losing his throne, of a man losing his honor, of a princess becoming an outcast. 

"Your bride-elect, " he said, "seems somewhat over-hasty. Well, I'm offto bed. "

"Maurice, can you blame me?"

"No, John; whom the gods destroy they first make mad. You will come toyour senses when it is too late. "

"For God's sake, Maurice, who is she?"

"What will you do if she breaks her promise?" adroitly evading thequestion. 

"What shall I do?" He emptied the ashes from his pipe, and rose; allthat was aggressive came into his face. "I will bind her hands and feetand carry her to the altar, and shoot the priest that refuses to marryus. O Maurice, rest easy; no woman lives who will make a fool of me, andlaugh. "

"That's comfort;" and Maurice turned in. 

This night it was the Englishman who sat up till the morning hours. Sylvia Amerbach. .. . A fear possessed him. If it should be, he thought;if it should be, what then?

Midnight in Madame's boudoir; no light save that which streamed rosilyfrom the coals in the grate. The countess sat with her slippered feetupon the fender. She held in her hand a screen, and if any thoughtsmarked her face, they remained in blurred obscurity. 

"Heu!" said Madame from the opposite side; "it is all over. It wasdetestable. I, to suffer this humiliation! Do you know what I have done?I have promised to be his wife! His wife, I! Is it not droll?" There wasa surprising absence of mirth in the low laugh which followed. 

"I trust Madame will find it droll. "

"And you?"

"And I, Madame?"

"Yes; did you not bring the clown to your feet?"

"No, Madame. "

"How? You did not have the joy denied me--of laughing in his face?"

"No, Madame. " With each answer the voice grew lower. 

"Since when have I been Madame to you?"

"Since to-day. "

Madame reached out a band and pressed down the screen. "Elsa, what isit?"

"What is what, Madame?"

"This strange mood of yours. "

Silence. 

"You were gay enough this morning. Tell me. "

"There is nothing to tell, Madame, save that my sacrifices are at anend. I have nothing left. "

"What! You forsake me when the end is won?" in astonishment. 

"I did not say that I should desert you; I said that I had no moresacrifices to make. " The Countess rose. "For your sake, Madame, becauseyou have always been kind to me, and because it is impossible not tolove you, I have degraded myself. I have pretended to love a man who sawthrough the artifice and told me so, to save me further shame. O Madame, it is all execrable!

"And you will use this love which you have gained--this first love ofa man who has known no other and will know no other while he lives!--tobring about his ruin? This other, at whose head you threw me--beware ofhim. He is light-hearted and gay, perhaps. You call him a clown; heis cunning and brave; and unless you judge him at his true value, yourfabric of schemes will fall ere it reaches its culmination. Could evenyou trick him with words? No. You were compelled to use force. Is he nothandsome, Madame?" with a feverish gaiety. "Is there a gentleman at yourcourt who is a more perfect cavalier? Why, he blushes like a woman! Isthere in your court--" But her sentence broke, and she could not go on. 

"Elsa, are you mad?"

"Yes, Madame, yes; they call it a species of madness. " Then, with asudden gust of wrath: "Why did you not leave me in peace? You havedestroyed me! O, the shame of it!" and she fled into her own room. 

Madame sat motionless. This, among other things, she had not reckonedon. 

Only the troopers and the servants slept in peace that night. 

Maurice was up betimes next morning. The hills and valleys lay under amantle of sparkling rime, and the very air, keen of edge and whistling, glistened in the sunlight. The iron shoes of the horses beat sharplyon the stone flooring of the court yard. Maurice examined his ridingfurniture; pulled at the saddle, tugged at the rein buckles, lifted theleather flaps and tried the stirrup straps. It was not that he doubtedthe ability of the groom; it was because this particular care was secondnature to him. 

Fitzgerald watched him, and meditated. Some of his thoughts were notpleasant. His eyes were heavy. At times he would lift his shoulders andpermit half a smile to flicker over his lips; a certain thought causedthis. The Colonel sat astride a broad-chested cavalry horse, spotlesswhite. He was going to accompany Maurice to the frontier. He had imbibedthe exhilarating tonic of the morning, and his spirits ran high. Atlength Maurice leaped into the saddle, caught the stirrups well, andsignaled to the Colonel that he was ready. 

"You understand, Maurice?" Fitzgerald asked. 

"Yes, John; all the world loves a lover. Besides, it is a gloriousmorning for a ride. Up, portcullis, down drawbridge!" waving his hand tothe Colonel. 

And away they went through the gateway, into the frosted road. Mauricefelt the spirit of some medieval ancestor creep into his veins and helonged for an hour of the feudal days, to rescue a princess from somedungeon-keep and to harry an over-lord. After all, she was a wonderfulwoman, and Fitzgerald was only a man. To give up all for the love ofwoman is the only sacrifice a man can make. 

"En avant!" cried the Colonel. "A fine day, a fine day for the house ofAuersperg!"

"And a devilish bad one for the houses of Fitzgerald and Carewe. Woman'sambition, coupled with her deceit, is the root of all evil; money issimply an invention of man to protect himself from her encroachments. Eve was ambitious and deceitful; all women are her daughters. When thepages of history grow dull--"

"Time puts a maggot in my lady's brain, " supplemented the Colonel. "Itis like a row of dominoes. The power behind the throne, the woman behindthe power; an impulse moves the woman, and lo! how they clatter down. But without woman, history would be poor reading. The greatest battlesin the world, could we but see behind, were fought for women. Men arebut footnotes, and unfortunately history is made up of footnotes. But itis a fine thing to be a footnote; that is my ambition. 

"Ah, if you but knew what a pleasure it is for an old man like me tohave a finger in the game time plays! To meddle with affairs, directlyor indirectly! Kingdoms are but judy shows, kings and queens butpuppets; but we who pull the strings--Ah, that is it! To play a game ofchess with crowns!"

"There are exceptions; Madame seems to hold the strings in thisinstance. "

"Madame follows my advice in all she does. "

Maurice opened his eyes at this statement. 

"Would you believe an old man like me could lay such a train? All thiswas my idea. It was difficult to get Madame to agree with my views. War? I am not afraid of it; I am suspicious of it. One day your friendreturned a personal letter of Madame's having written across it, `Ilaugh at you. ' It was very foolish. No man laughs at Madame more thanonce. She will, one day, return this letter to him. A crown, a finerevenge, in one fell swoop. "

"She will ruin him utterly?"

"Utterly. "

"Have you any idea what sort of man my friend is?"

"He lacks the polish of a man of affairs, and he surrenders too easily. "

"He will never surrender--Madame. "

"How?"

"You remember his father; he will prove his father's son, every inch ofhim. O, my Colonel, the curtain has only risen. One fine morning yourduchy will wake up without a duchess. "

"What do you imply--an abduction?" The Colonel laughed. 

"That is my secret. "

"And the pretty countess?" banteringly. 

"It was rather bad taste in Madame. It was putting love and patriotismto questionable purposes. I am a gentleman. "

"It was out of consideration for you; Madame was not quite sure aboutyou. But you are right; all of it has rather a dark shade. You may roba man of his valuables and give them back; a broken word is not to bemended. Why did you keep the hiding place so secret? I could have gotthose consols, and all this would have been avoided. "

"How should I know where they were? It was none of my affair. "

"We are trusting you; I might have gone myself. You will return with thetreasure. Why have I not asked your word? Curiosity will bring you back;curiosity. Besides this, you have an idea that with your presence about, a flaw in the glass may be found. Yes, you will be back. History is tobe made; when you are old you will glance at the page and say: `Lookthere; rather a pretty bit, eh? Well, I helped to make it; indeed, hadit not been for me and my curiosity it would not have been made at all. 'Above all things, do not stop to talk to veiled women. "

There was a chuckling sound. "I say, your Englishman is clever now andthen. In the gun barrels! Who would have looked for them there? But whydid he come himself? Why did he not trust to his bankers? Why did he notturn over the affair to his representative, the British minister? Therewere a hundred ways of averting the catastrophe. Why did he not usea little fore-thought when he knew how anxious we were for hisdistinguished person?"

"Why does the moon rise at night and the sun at dawn? I am no CumaeanSybil. Perhaps it is the impulse which moves the woman behind the powerbehind the throne; they call it fate. Had I been in his place I dare sayI should have followed his footsteps. "

Not long after they arrived at the frontier where they were to separate, to meet again under conditions disagreeable to both. The Colonel gavehim additional instructions. 

"Go; return as quickly as possible. "

"Never fear; I should not like to miss the finale to this opera bouffe. "

"Rail on, my son; call it by any name you please, only do not interruptthe prompter;" and with this the Colonel waved him an adieu. 

Maurice began the journey through the mountain pass, thinking andplanning and scheming. However he looked at the situation, the endwas the same: the Osians were doomed. If he himself played falseand retained the certificates until too late to be of benefit to theduchess, war would follow; and the kingdom would be soundly beaten. .. . Would Prince Frederick still hold to his agreement and marry her RoyalHighness, however ill the fortunes of war fared? There was a swiftcurrent of blood to his heart. The Voiture-verse of a countess fadedaway. .. . Supposing Prince Frederick withdrew his claims? Some day herHighness would be free; free, without title or money or shelter. It wasa wild dream. Was there not, when all was said, a faint hope for his ownaffairs in the fall of Fitzgerald?

She was lonely, friendless, personally known to few. Still, she would bean Osian princess for all her misfortunes. But an Osian princess was notso great that love might not possess her. Without royalty she would beonly a woman. What would Austria do; what would Austria say? If Austriahad placed Leopold on the throne, certainly it was to shut out the houseof Auersperg. 

And who was this man Beauvais, who served one house openly and anotherunder the rose? Where had he met him before, and why did the thoughtof him cause unrest? To rescue her somehow, to win her love, to see theglory of the world light the heavens in her eyes! If the dream was mad, it was no less pleasant. 

He was a commoner; he had nothing in the world but his brain and hisarm. Fitzgerald, now, possessed a famous title and an ancient name. These kings and princes hereabout could boast of but little more thanhe; and there were millions to back him. He could dream of princessesand still be sane. Maurice did not envy the Englishman's riches, but hecoveted his right of way. 

How often had he indulged in vain but pleasant dreams! Even in the olddays he was always succoring some proud beauty in distress. Sometimesit was at sea, sometimes in railroad wrecks, sometimes in the heart offlames; but he was ever there, like a guardian angel. It was never thesame heroine, but that did not matter; she was always beautiful andrich, high placed and lovable, and he never failed to brush aside allobstacles that beset the path to the church door. He had dreamed ofpaladins, and here at last was his long-sought opportunity--but he coulddo nothing! He laughed. How many such romances lay beneath the banterand jest of those bald bachelor diplomat friends of his? Had fatereserved him for one of these?

It was noon when he entered the city of Bleiberg. He went directly tohis hotel, where a bath and a change of clothes took the stiffness fromhis limbs. He was in no great hurry to go to the Grand Hotel; there wasplenty of time. Happily there was no mail for him; he was not needed inVienna. 

At two o'clock he set out for the lower town. On the way he picked upodd ends of news. The king was rapidly sinking; he had suffered anotherstroke, and was now without voice. There was unusual activity inthe barracks. The students of the university were committing milddepredations, such as building bonfires, holding flambeau processions, and breaking windows which contained the photographs of Prince Frederickof Carnavia, who, strangely enough, was still wrapt in obscurity. WhenMaurice entered the Grand Hotel he looked casually among the porters, but the round-faced one was missing. He approached the desk. Theproprietor did not recognize him. 

"No, my friend, " said Maurice, affably, as a visitors' book was pushedforward, "I am not going to sign. Instead, I wish to ask a favor. A weekago a party of the king's troopers met upstairs. "

The proprietor showed signs of returning memory, together with a strangeagitation. 

"There was a slight disturbance, " went on Maurice, still using theaffable tone. "Herr--ah--Hamilton, I believe--"

The proprietor grew limp and yellow. "I--I do not know where he is. "

"I do, " replied Maurice. "Don't you recognize me? Have I changed sosince I came here to doctor a sprained ankle?"

"You?--Before God, Herr, I was helpless; I had nothing to do with it!"terrified at the peculiar smile of the victim. 

"The key to this gentleman's room, " was the demand. 

"I--"

"The key, and be quick about it. "

The key came forth. "You will say nothing, Herr; it would ruin mybusiness. It was a police affair. "

"Has any one been in this room since?"

"No, Herr; the key has been in my pocket. "

"Where is the porter who brought me here?"

"He was not a porter; he was with the police. "

Maurice passed up the stairs. He found the room in disorder, but adisorder rather familiar to his eyes. He had been the cause of most ofit. Here was where he broke the baron's arm and thumped three others onthe head. It had been a good fight. Here was a hole in the wall whereone of the empty revolvers had gone--missing the Colonel's head by aninch. 

There was a smudge on the carpet made by the falling candles. He sawFitzgerald's pipe and picked it up. No; the chamber maid had not yetbeen there. He went over to the bed, stared at it and shrugged. Heraised the mattress. There was the gun case. He drew it forth and tookout the gun, not, however, without a twist of his nerves. 

Four millions of crowns, a woman's love, the fall of one dynasty and therise of another, all wadded in those innocent looking gun barrels!He hesitated for a space, then unlocked the breech and held the tubestoward the window. There was nothing in the barrels, nothing but thegolden sunlight, which glinted along the polished steel. 

CHAPTER XIV. QUI M'AIME, AIME MON CHIEN

On making this discovery Maurice was inclined to declaim in thatvigorous vocabulary which is taboo. He had been tricked. He was nolonger needed at the Red Chateau. Four millions in a gun barrel; hoaxwas written all over the face of it, and yet he had been as unsuspiciousas a Highland gillie. Madame had tricked him; the countess had trickedhim, the Colonel and Fitzgerald. 

That Madame had tricked him created no surprise; what irritated him mostwas the conviction that Fitzgerald was laughing in his sleeve, and thathe had misjudged the Englishman's capacity for dissimulation. Very well. He threw the gun on the bed; he took Fitzgerald's pipe from his pocketand cast it after the gun, and with a gesture which placed all thecontents of the room under the ban of his anathema, he strode out intothe corridor, thence to the office. 

Here the message to Madame from Beauvais flashed back. The Colonel ofthe royal cuirassiers had lied; he had found the certificates. But stillthere was a cloud of mystery; to what use could Beauvais put them? Hethrew the key to the landlord. 

"You lied to me when you said that no one had entered that room, " hesaid. 

"O, Herr, I told you that no one but the police had been in the roomsince your departure. They made a search the next morning. Herr Hamiltonwas suspected of being a spy of the duchy's. I could not interfere withthe police. "

Maurice saw that there was nothing to be got from the landlord, who wasas much in the dark as he. He passed into the street and walked withoutany particular end in view. O, he would return to the Red Chateau, ifonly to deliver himself of the picturesque and opinionated address onMadame. Once he saw his reflection in a window glass, and he stopped andmuttered at it. 

"Eh, bien, as Madame herself says, we develop with crises, and certainlythere is one not far distant. I never could write what I wish to say toMadame; I'll go back to-morrow morning. "

Situated between the university and the Grand Hotel on the left handside of the Konigstrasse, east, stood an historical relic of the dayswhen Austria, together with the small independent states, strove toshake off the Napoleonic yoke. In those days students formed secretsocieties; societies full of strange ritual, which pushed devotionto fanaticism, which stopped at nothing, not even assassination. Toexterminate the French, to regain their ancestral privileges, to rescuetheir country from its prostrate humiliation, many sacrificed theirlives and their fortunes. 

Napoleon found no means of reaching these patriots, for they could notbe purchased. This convinced Napoleon of their earnestness, for he couldbuy kings and princes. The students were invisible, implacable, and manya brilliant officer of the imperial guard disappeared, never to return. 

This historic relic of the Konigstrasse had been the headquarters of oneof the branches of these numerous societies; and the students still heldto those ancient traditions. But men and epochs pass swiftly; only theinanimate remain. This temple of patriotism is simply an inn to-day, owned by one Stuler, and is designated by those who patronize it as "OldStuler's. " It is the gathering place of the students. It consists of ahall and a garden, the one facing the street, the other walled in at therear. 

The hall is made of common stone, bald and unadorned save by four dingywindows and a tarnished sign, "Garten, " which hangs obliquely over theentrance. At the curb stands a post with three lamps pendant; but theseare never lit because Old Stuler can keep neither wicks nor glass beyondthe reach of canes. 

Old Stuler was well versed in the peculiarities of students. In Americathey paint statues; in Austria they create darkness. On warm, clearnights the students rioted in the garden; when it rained, chairs andtables were carried into the hall, which contained a small stage and asquare gallery. Never a night passed without its animated scene. 

Here it was that the evils of monarchical systems were discussed, thearmy service, the lack of proper amusement, the restrictions at thestage entrance to the opera; here it was that they concocted theirexploits, fought their duels, and planned means of outwitting OldStuler's slate. 

Stuler was a good general; he could keep the students in order, watchhis assistants draw beer, the Rhine wine, and the scum (dregs of thecask, muddy and strong), and eye the accumulating accounts on theslate. This slate was wiped out once the month; that is to say, whenremittances came from home. The night following remittances was aglorious one both to Stuler and the students. There were new scars, newsubjects for debate, and Stuler got rid of some of his prime tokayer. The politics of the students was socialism, which is to say they werealways dissatisfied. Tourists seldom repeated their visits to Stuler's. There was too much spilling of beer in laps, dumping of pipe ash intouncovered steins, and knocking off of stiff hats. 

It was in front of Old Stuler's that Maurice came to a pause. He hadheard of the place and the praise of its Hofbrau and Munich beers. Heentered. He found the interior dark and gloomy, though outside the sunshone brilliantly. He ordered a stein of Hofbrau, and carried it intothe main hall, which was just off the bar-room. It was much lighterhere, though the hall had the tawdry appearance of a theater in theday-time; and the motes swam thickly in the beams of sunshine whichentered through the half-closed shutters. It was only at night thatStuler's was presentable. 

Scarcely a dozen men sat at the tables. In one corner Maurice saw whatappeared to be a man asleep on his arms, which were extended the widthof the table. It was the cosiest corner in the hall, and Maurice decidedto establish himself at the other side of the table, despite the presentincumbent. Noiselessly he crossed the floor and sat down. The light wasat his back, leaving his face in the shadow, but shone squarely on thesleeper's head. 

"I do not envy his headache when he wakes up, " thought Maurice. He haddetected the vinous odor of the sleeper's breath. "These headaches, while they last, are bad things. I know; I've had 'em. I wonder, "lifting the stein and draining it, "who the duffer was who said thatgetting drunk was fun? His name has slipped my memory; no matter. " Heset down the stein and banged the lid. 

The sleeper stirred. "Rich, " he murmured; "rich, rich! I'm rich! Ahundred thousand crowns!"

"My friend, I'm not in the position to dispute with you on thatsubject, " said Maurice, smiling. He rapped the stein again. 

The sleeper raised his head and stared stupidly, "Rich, aye, rich!" He was still in half a dream. "Rich, I say!"

"Hang it, I'm not arguing on that, " Maurice laughed. 

The other swung upright at this, his round, oily face sodden, his blackeyes blinking. He threw off the stupor when he saw that it was a man andnot the shadow of one. 

"Who the devil are you?" he asked, thickly. 

Maurice seldom forgot a face. He recognized this one. "Oho!" he said, "so it's you, eh? I did not expect to meet you. Happily I had you inmind. You are not employed at present as a porter at the Grand Hotel? Soit is you, my messenger!"

"Who are you and what are you talking about? I don't know you. "

"Wait a moment and I'll refresh your memory. " Maurice theatricallythrust a cigar between his teeth and struck a match. As the flameillumined his features the questioner started. "So you do not recognizeme, eh? You haven't the slightest remembrance of Herr Hamilton and hissprained ankle, eh? Sit down or I'll break your head with this stein, you police spy!" dropping the bantering tone. 

The other sat down, but he whistled sharply; and Maurice saw the dozenor so rise from the other tables and come hurriedly in his direction. Hepushed back his chair and rose, his teeth firmly embedded in the cigar, and waited. 

"What's the trouble, Kopf?" demanded the newcomers. 

"This fellow accuses me of being a spy and threatens to break my head. "

"O! break your head, is it? Let us see. Come, brothers; out with thisfellow. "

Maurice saw that they were about to charge him, and his hand went to hiship pocket and rested on the butt of the revolver which the Colonel hadgiven him. "Gentlemen, " he said, quietly, "I have no discussion withyou. I have a pistol in my pocket, and I'm rather handy with it. Idesire to talk to this man, and talk to him I will. Return to yourtables; the affair doesn't concern you. "

The intended assault did not materialize. They scowled, but retired afew paces. They saw the movement toward the hip pocket, and they notedthe foreign twist of the tongue. Moreover, they did not like the angleof the speaker's jaws. They shuffled, looked questioningly at oneanother, and, as if all of a single mind, went slowly back to theirchairs. Kopf grew pale. Indeed, his pallor was out of all proportionwith the affair, which Maurice took to be no more than a comedy. 

"Brothers, " he said, huskily, "he will not dare. "

"Don't you doubt it for a moment, " interrupted Maurice, taking out therevolver and fondling it. "Any interference will mean one or more casesfor the hospital. Come, I'm not the police, " to Kopf. "I am not goingto hurt you. I wish only to ask you a few questions, which is my rightafter what has passed between us. We'll go to my hotel, where we shan'tbe disturbed. "

Together they left the hall. As they passed through the bar-room Stulerlooked questions, but refrained from asking them. Maurice put away therevolver. As they went out into the street he drew Kopf's arm within hisown. 

"What do you want?" asked Johann, savagely. 

"First. What is your place in this affair?"

"What affair?"

"The abduction. "

"I had nothing to do with it, Herr, on my honor. I was only a porter, and I supposed my errand was in good faith. "

"How about the gentle push you gave me when the door opened? My friend, I'm no infant. Lies will do you no good. I know everything, and wishonly to verify. You are a police spy, in the employ of the duchess. "Maurice felt the arm draw, and bore down on it. 

"If I was, do you suppose I'd fool my time on this side of theThalians?" Johann shrugged. 

"I'm not sure about that, " said Maurice, puffing into Johann's face. "When cabinet ministers play spy, small fry like you will not cavil atthe occupation. And you are not in their pay?" Johann glared. "I wantto know, " Maurice went on, "what you know; what you know of ColonelBeauvais, his plans, his messengers to the duchy, what is taking placeunderneath. "

Johann's face cleared and a cunning light brightened his eyes. "If thatis all you are after, I'll tell you. I'm a spy no longer; they have nomore use for me, despite their promises. I'll play them off for quits. "

"If that's all, " repeated Maurice, "what did you think I wanted to askyou?"

Johann bit his lip. "I'm wanted badly by the chancellor, curse you, ifyou must know. I thought he might be behind you. "

"Don't worry about that, " said Maurice, to whom this declaration seemedplausible. "We'll talk as we go along. "

And Johann loosened his tongue and poured into Maurice's ear a talewhich, being half a truth, had all the semblance of straightforwardness. What he played for was time; to gain time and to lull his captor'ssuspicions. Maurice was not familiar with the lower town; Johann was. A few yards ahead there was an alley he knew, and once in it he couldlaugh at all pursuit. It might be added that if Maurice knew but littleof the lower town, he knew still less about Johann. 

Suddenly, in the midst of his narrative, Johann put his leg stifflybetween his enemy's and gave a mighty jerk with his arm, with the resultthat Maurice, wholly unprepared, went sprawling to the pavement. He wason his feet in an instant, but Johann was free and flying up the alley. Maurice gave chase, but uselessly. Johann had disappeared. The alley wasa cul de sac, but was lined with doors; and these Maurice hammered toease his conscience. No one answered. Deeply disgusted with his lack ofcaution, Maurice regained the street, where he brushed the dust from hisknees. 

"I'll take it out of his hide the next time we meet. He wasn't worth thetrouble, anyway. "

A sybil might have whispered in his ear that a very large fish hadescaped his net, but Maurice continued, conscious of nothing savechagrin and a bruised knee. He resumed the piecing together of events, or rather he attempted to; very few pieces could be brought together. IfBeauvais had the certificates, what was his object in lying to Madame?What benefit would accrue to him? After all, it was a labyrinth of pathswhich always brought him up to the beginning. He drooped his shouldersdejectedly. There was nothing left for him to do but return to the RedChateau and inform them of the fruitlessness of his errand. He wouldstart on the morrow. Tonight he wanted once more to hear the band, to wander about the park, to row around the rear of the archbishop'sgarden. 

"A fine thing to be born in purple--sometimes, " he mused. "I never knewtill now the inconveniences of the common mold. "

He tramped on, building chateaux en Espagne. That they tumbled down didnot matter; he could rebuild in the space of a second, and each castlean improvement on its predecessor. 

His attention was suddenly drawn away from this idle but pleasantpursuit. In a side street he saw twenty or thirty students surging backand forth, laughing and shouting and jostling. In the center of thisswaying mass canes rose and fell. It was a fight, and as he loved afight, Maurice pressed his hat firmly on his head and veered intothe side street. He looked around guiltily, and was thankful that nofeminine eyes were near to offer him their reproaches. He jostled amongthe outer circle, but could see nothing. He stooped. Something whiteflashed this way and that, accompanied by the sound of low growls. A dogfight was his first impression, and he was on the point of leaving, for, while he secretly enjoyed the sight of two physically perfect men wagingbattle, he had not the heart to see two brutes pitted against eachother, goaded on by brutes of a lower caste. But even as he turned thecrowd opened and closed, and the brief picture was enough for him. 

Her dog! And the students were beating it because they knew it to bedefenseless. Her dog! toothless and old, who could not hold when hisjaws closed on an arm or leg, but who, with that indomitable courage ofhis race, fought on and on, hopelessly and stubbornly. 

He was covered with blood, one of his legs was hurt, but still thespirit burned. It was cowardly. Maurice's jaws assumed a particularlyferocious angle. Her dog! Rage choked him. With an oath he flung thisstudent aside and that, fought his way to the center. A burly student, armed with a stout cane, was the principal aggressor. 

Maurice doubled his fist and swung a blow which had one hundred andsixty pounds behind it, and it landed squarely on the cheek of thestudent, who dropped face downward and lay still. This onslaught was sosudden and unexpected that the students were confounded. But Maurice, whose plans crystallized in moments like these, picked up the cane andlaid it about him. 

The students swore and yelled and stumbled over one another in theirwild efforts to dodge the vindictive cane. Maurice cleared a widecircle. The dog, half blinded by his blood and not fully comprehendingthis new phase in the tide of events, lunged at Maurice, who nimblyeluded him. Finally the opportunity came. He flung the cane into theyelling pack, with his left arm caught the dog about the middle, andleaped back into the nearest doorway. The muscles of his left arm weresorely tried; the dog considered his part in the fray by no means ended, and he tugged and yelped huskily. With his right hand Maurice sought hisrevolver, cocked and leveled it. There came a respite. The studentshad not fully recovered from their surprise, and the yells sank intomurmurs. 

"You curs!" said Maurice, panting. "Shame on you! and an old dog thatcan't defend himself! You knew he had no teeth. "

"God save your Excellency!" laughed a student in the rear, who had nottasted the cane; "you may be sure we knew he had no teeth or we wouldn'thave risked our precious calves. Don't let him scare you with thepopgun, comrades. At him, my brave ones; he will be more sport than thedog! Down with the Osians, dogs, followers and all!"

"Come on, then, " said Maurice, whose fighting blood was at heat. "Comeon, if you think it isn't over. There are six bullets in this popgun, and I don't give a particular damn where they go. Come on!"

Whether or not this challenge would have been accepted remainsunwritten. There now came on the air the welcome sound of gallopinghoofs, and presently two cuirassiers wheeled into the street. WhatMaurice had left undone with the cane the cuirassiers completed with theflat of their sabers. They had had a brush with the students the nightbefore, and they went at them as if determined to take both interest andprincipal. The students dispersed like leaves in the wind--all save one. He rose to his feet, his hands covering his jaw and a dazed expressionin his eyes. He saw Maurice with the revolver, the cuirassiers withtheir sabers, and the remnant of his army flying to cover, and hedecided to follow their example. The scene had changed somewhat since helast saw it. He slunk off at a zigzag trot. 

One of the cuirassiers dismounted, his face red from his exertions. 

"Eh?" closely scanning Maurice's white face. "Well, well! is it you, Monsieur Carewe?"

"Lieutenant von Mitter?" cried Maurice, dropping the dog, who by now hadgrasped the meaning of it all. "You came just in time!"

They shook hands. 

"I'll lay odds that you put up a good fight, " the Lieutenant said, pleasantly. "Curse these students! If I had my way I'd coop them all upin their pest-hole of a university and blow them into eternity. "

"And how did the dog come in this part of the town?" asked Maurice, picking up his hat. 

"He was with her Royal Highness. This is charity afternoon. She drivesabout giving alms to the poor, and when she enters a house the dogstands at the entrance to await her return. She came out of another doorand forgot the dog. Max there remembered him only when we were severalblocks away. A dozen or so of those rascally students stood opposite uswhen we stopped here. It flashed on me in a minute why the dog did notfollow us. And we came back at a cut, leaving her Highness with no onebut the groom. Max, take the dog to her Highness, and tell her that itis Monsieur Carewe who is to be thanked. "

Maurice blushed. "Say nothing of my part in the fracas. It was nothingat all. "

"Don't be modest, my friend, " said the cuirassier, laughing, while hiscomrade dismounted, took the dog under his arm, and made off. "This isone chance in a lifetime. Her Royal Highness will insist on thankingyou personally. O, I know Mademoiselle's caprices. And there's yourhat, crushed all out of shape. Truly, you are unfortunate with yourheadgear. "

"It's felt, " said Maurice, slapping it against his leg. "No harm done tothe hat. Well, good day to you, Lieutenant, and thanks. I must be off. "

"Nay, nay!" cried the Lieutenant. "Wait a moment. `There is a tide inthe affairs of men, which, taken at the flood--' How does that line go?I was educated in England and speak English as I do my mother tongue--"

"Won't you let me go?" asked Maurice. "Look at my clothes. "

"You ought to be thankful that they are dry this time. Come; you'll havea good story to carry back to Vienna. Princesses do not eat people. "

"No, " said Maurice. 

"Ye gods, listen to that! One would think by the tone of your voice thatyou wished they did!"

There was no resisting this good humor; and Maurice wanted only anexcuse to wait. He sat down on the steps, sucked the knuckles of hishand, and contemplated the grin on the cuirassier's face. 

"I like you, " said the Lieutenant; "I like your sangfroid. The palace isa devil of a dull place, and a new face is a positive relief. I supposeyou know that affairs here are bad; no honesty anywhere. Everybody hashis hands tied. The students know this, and do as they please. Think oftwo hundred gendarmes in the city, and an affair like this takes placewithout one of them turning up!

"I tell you frankly that it is all I can do to withhold the edge of mysaber when I meet those students. Last night they held a noisy flambeauprocession around the Hohenstaufenplatz, knowing full well that the kinghad had another stroke and quiet was necessary. They would have wakedthe dead. I have an idea that I forgot to use the flat of my sword; atleast, the hospital report confirms my suspicions. Ah, here comes Max. "

"Her Royal Highness desires to thank Monsieur Carewe, and commands thathe be brought to her carriage. "

Lieutenant von Mitter smiled, and Maurice stood up and brushed himself. The troopers sprang into the saddle and started on a walk, with Mauricebringing up behind on foot. The thought of meeting the princess, together with his recent exertions, created havoc with his nerves. Whenhe arrived at the royal carriage, his usual coolness forsook him. Hefumbled with his hat, tongue-tied. He stood in the Presence. 

"Monsieur, " said the Voice, "I thank you with all my heart for yourgallant service. Poor, poor dog!"

"It was nothing, your Highness; any man would have done the same thing. "The red in the wheel-spokes bothered his eyes. 

"No, no! you must not belittle it. "

"If it had not been for Lieutenant von Mitter--"

"Whither were you going, Monsieur?" interrupted the Voice. 

"Nowhere; that is, I was going toward my hotel. "

"The Continental?"

"Yes, your Highness. "

"Step into the carriage, Monsieur;" the Voice had the ring of command. "I will put you down there. It is the least that I can do to show mygratitude. "

"I--I to ride with your Highness?" he stammered. "O, no! I--that is--itwould scarcely be--"

"You are not afraid of me, Monsieur?" with a smile which, though it hada bit of the rogue in it, was rather sad. She moved to the other side ofthe seat and put the dog on the rug at her feet. "Perhaps you are proud?Well, Monsieur, I too am proud; so proud that I promise never to forgiveyou if you refuse to gratify my wish. "

"I was not thinking of myself, your Highness, or rather I was. I am notpresentable. Look at me; my hat is out of shape, my clothes dusty, and Idare say that my face needs washing. "

The Presence replied to this remarkable defense with laughter, laughterin which Maurice detected an undercurrent of bitterness. 

"Monsieur Carewe, you are not acquainted with affairs in Bleiberg, oryou would know that I am a nobody. When I pass through the streets Iattract little attention, I receive no homage. Enter: I command it. "

"If your Highness commands--"

"I do command it, " imperiously. "And you would have pleased me morefully if you had accepted the invitation and not obeyed the command. "

"I withdraw all objections, " he said hastily, "and accept theinvitation. "

"That is better, " the Voice said. 

Maurice, still uncovered, sat down on the front seat. 

"Not there, Monsieur; beside me. Etiquette does not permit you to ridein front of me. "

As he took the vacant place beside her he felt a fire in his cheeks. TheVoice and Presence were disquieting. As the groom touched the horses, Maurice was sensible of her sleeve against his, and he drew away. ThePresence appeared unmindful. 

"And you recognize me?" she asked. 

"Yes, your Highness. " He tried to remember what he had said to her thatday in the archbishop's garden. Two or three things came back and thecolor remounted his cheeks. 

"Have you forgotten what you said to me?"

"I dare say I was impertinent, " vaguely. 

"Ah, you have forgotten, then!"

In all his life he never felt so ill at ease. To what did she refer?That he would be proud to be her friend? That if the princess was asbeautiful as the maid he could pass judgment?

"Yes, you have forgotten. Do you not remember that you offered to bemy friend?" She read him through and through, his embarrassment, thetell-tale color in his cheeks. She laughed, and there was nothing butyouth in the laughter. "Certainly you are afraid of me. "

"I confess I am, " he said. "I can not remember all I said to you. "

Suddenly she, too, remembered something, and it caused the red of therose to ripple from her throat to her eyes. "Poor dog! Not that theyhated him, but because I love him!" Tears started to her eyes. "See, Monsieur Carewe; princesses are human, they weep and they love. Poordog! My playmate and my friend. But for you they might have killed him. Tell me how it happened. " She knew, but she wanted to hear the storyfrom his own lips. 

His narrative was rather disjointed, and he slipped in von Mitter asmany times as possible, thinking to do that individual a good turn. Perhaps she noticed it, for at intervals she smiled. During the tellinghe took out his handkerchief, wiped the dog's head with it, and wound ittightly about the injured leg. The dog knew; he wagged his tail. 

How handsome and brave, she thought, as she observed the face inprofile. Not a day had passed during the fortnight gone that she had notconjured up some feature of that intelligent countenance; sometimes ithad been the eyes, sometimes the chin and mouth, sometimes the shapelyhead. It was wrong; but this little sin was so sweet. She had neverexpected to see him again. He had come and gone, and she had thoughtthat the beginning and the end. Ah, if only she were not a princess! Ifonly some hand would sweep aside those insurmountable barriers calledbirth and policy! To be free, to be the mistress of one's heart, one'sdreams, one's desires!

"And you did it all alone, " she said, softly; "all alone. "

"O, I had the advantage; I was not expected. It was all over before theyknew what had happened. "

"And you had the courage to take a poor dog's part? Did you know whosedog it was?"

"Yes, your Highness, I recognized him. "

A secret gladness stole into her heart, and to cover the flame whichagain rose to her cheeks, she bent and smoothed the dog's head. Thisgave Maurice an opportunity to look at her. What a beautiful beingshe was! He was actually sitting beside her, breathing the sameair, listening to her voice. She exhaled a delicate perfume such asincorporates itself in persons of high degree and becomes a naturalemanation, an incense vague and indescribable. He felt that he wasgazing on the culmination of youth, beauty, and elegance. .. Yes, Fitzgerald was right. To beggar one's self for love; honor and life, andall to the winds if only love remained. 

Presently she straightened, and he centered his gaze on the back of thegroom. 

"Monsieur, place your hat upon your head, " smiling. "We have entered theStrasse, and I should not like to embarrass you with the attention ofthe citizens. "

He put on his hat. The impulse came to tell her all that he knew inregard to the kingdom's affairs; but his voice refused its offices. Besides, it was too late; the carriage was rolling into the Platz, andin a moment more it drew up before the terrace of the Continental Hotel. Maurice stepped out and bared his head. 

"This evening, Monsieur, at nine, I shall expect to see you at thearchbishop's reception to the corps diplomatique. " A hand was extendedtoward him. He did not know what to do about it. "I am offering you myhand to kiss, Monsieur Carewe; it is a privilege which I do not extendto all. "

As he touched it to his lips, he was sure that a thousand pairs of eyeswere centered on him. The truth is, there were less than one hundred. It was the first time in many months that the Crown Princess had stoppedbefore the Continental Hotel. To the guests it was an event; and someeven went as far as to whisper that the handsome young man was PrinceFrederick, incognito. 

"God save your Royal Highness, " said Maurice, at loss for other words. He released her hand and stepped back. 

"Until this evening, then, Monsieur;" and the royal barouche rolledaway. 

"Who loves me, loves my dog, " said Maurice, as he sped to his room. 

CHAPTER XV. IN WHICH FORTUNE BECOMES CARELESS AND PRODIGAL

On the night prior to the arrival of Maurice in Bleiberg, there happenedvarious things of moment. 

At midnight the chancellor left the palace, after having witnessed froma window the meeting of the cuirassiers and the students, and soughthis bed; but his sleep was burdened with troubled dreams. The clouds, lowering over his administration, thickened and darkened. How many timeshad he contemplated resigning his office, only to put aside the thoughtand toil on?

Defeat in the end was to be expected, but still there was ever that starof hope, a possible turn in affairs which would carry him on to victory. Victory is all the sweeter when it seems impossible. Prince Frederickhad disappeared, no one knew where, the peasant girl theory couldno longer be harbored, and the wedding was but three days hence. TheEnglishman had not stepped above the horizon, and the telegrams to thefour ends of the world returned unanswered. Thus, the chancellor stoodalone; the two main props were gone from under. As he tossed on hispillows he pondered over the apparent reticence and indifference of thearchbishop. 

All was still in the vicinity of the palaces. Sentinels pacednoiselessly within the enclosures. In the royal bedchamber the king wasresting quietly, and near by, on a lounge, the state physician dozed. The Captain of the household troop of cuirassiers nodded in theante-room. 

Only the archbishop remained awake. He sat in his chamber and wrote. Nowand then he would moisten his lips with watered wine. Sometimes he heldthe pen in midair, and peered into the shapeless shadows cast by thetapers, his broad forehead shining and deep furrows between his eyes. On, on he wrote. Perhaps the archbishop was composing additionalpages to his memoirs, for occasionally his thin lips relaxed into animpenetrable smile. 

There was little quiet in the lower town, especially in the locality ofthe university. Old Stuler's was filled with smoke, students and tumult. Ill feeling ran high. There were many damaged heads, for the cuirassiershad not been niggard with their sabers. 

A student walked backward and forward on the stage, waving wildly withhis hands to command attention. It was some time before he succeeded. 

"Fellow-students, brothers of freedom and comrades, " he began. "Allthis must come to an end, and that at once. Our personal libertyis endangered. Our rights are being trodden under foot. Our ancientprivileges are being laughed at. It must end. " This declaration wasgreeted by shouts, sundry clattering of pewter lids and noisy rappingsof earthenware on the tables. "Have we no rights as students? Must wegive way to a handful of beggarly mercenaries? Must we submit to theoutlawing of our customs and observances? What! We must not paradebecause the king does not like to be disturbed? And who are thecuirassiers?" Nobody answered. Nobody was expected to answer. "They areFrenchmen of hated memory--Swiss, Prussians, with Austrian officers. Arewe or are we not an independent state? If independent, shall we stand byand see our personal liberties restricted? No! I say no!

"Let us petition to oust these vampires, who not only rob us of ourinnocent amusements, but who are fed by our taxes. What right hadAustria to dictate our politics? What right had she to disavow the bloodand give us these Osians? O, my brothers, where are the days of AlbrechtIII of glorious memory? He acknowledged our rights. He was our lawfulsovereign. He understood and loved us. " This burst of sentiment wasslightly exaggerative, if the history of that monarch is to be reliedon; but the audience was mightily pleased with this recollection. Itserved to add to their distemper and wrath against the Osian puppet. "And where are our own soldiers, the soldiers of the kingdom? Molderingaway in the barracks, unnoticed and forgotten. For the first time in thehistory of the country foreigners patrol the palaces. Our soldiers arenobodies. They hold no office at court save that of Marshal, and hisvoice is naught. Yet the brunt of the soldier's life falls on them. Theywatch at the frontiers, tireless and vigilant, while the mercenariesriot and play. Brothers, the time has come for us to act. The army iswith us, and so are the citizens. Let ours be the glory of touching thematch. We are brave and competent. We are drilled. We lack not courage. Let us secretly arm and watch for the opportunity to strike a blow forour rights. Confusion to the Osians, and may the duchess soon come intoher own!"

He jumped from the stage, and another took his place; the haranguingwent on. The orators were serious and earnest; they believed themselvesto be patriots, pure and simple, when in truth they were experiencingthe same spirit of revolt as the boy whose mother had whipped him formaking an unnecessary noise, or stealing into the buttery. 

While the excitement was at its height, a man, somewhat older than themajority of the students, entered the bar-room from the street, andlounged heavily against the railing. His clothes were soiled andwrinkled, blue circles shadowed his eyes, which were of dull jet, thecorners of his mouth drooped dejectedly, and his oily face, covered withred stubble, gave evidences of a prolonged debauch. 

"Wine, Stuler, wine!" he called, laying down a coin, which gleamed dimlyyellow in the opalescent light. "And none of your devilish vinegars andscums. "

Stuler pounced on the coin and rubbed it between his palms. "Gold, Johann, gold?"

"Aye, gold; and the last of a pocketful, curse it! What's this noiseabout?" with a gesture, toward the hall. 

"The boys were in the Platz and had a brush with those damnedcuirassiers. They'll play a harder game yet. " Stuler always took sideswith the students, on business principles; they constituted his purse. "Tokayer?"

"No; champagne. Aye, these damned cuirassiers shall play a hard game erethe week is done, or my name is not Johann Kopf. They kicked me out ofthe palace grounds yesterday; me, me, me!" hammering the oak with hisfist. 

"Who?"

"Von Mitter, the English-bred dog! I'll kill him one of these days. Isit play to-night, or are they serious?" nodding again toward the hall. 

"Go in, " said Stuler, "and look at some of those heads; a look willanswer the purpose. "

Johann followed this advice. The picture he saw was one which agreedwith the idea that had come into his mind. He returned to the bar-room. And drank his wine thirstily, refilled the glass and emptied it. Stulershook his head. Johann was in a bad way when he gulped wine instead ofsipping it. Yet it was always so after a carouse. 

"Where have you been keeping yourself the past week?" he asked. If thestudents were his purse, Johann was his budget of news. 

"You ask that?" surlily. "You knew I had money; you knew that I was offsomewhere spending it--God knows where, I don't. Another bottle of wine. There's enough left from the gold to pay for it. "

Stuler complied. Johann's thirst seemed in no way assuaged; but soon thesullen expression, the aftermath of his spree, was replaced by one ofreckless jollity. His eyes began to sparkle. 

"A great game, Stuler; they're playing a great game, and you and I willbe in at the reaping. The town is quiet, you say? The troops haveceased murmuring, eh? A lull that comes before the storm. And when itbreaks--and break it will!--gay times for you and me. There will besacking. I have the list of those who lean toward the Osians. There willbe loot, old war dog!"

Stuler smiled indulgently; Johann was beginning to feel the wine. Perhaps he was to learn something. "Yes, 'twill be a glorious day. "

"A week hence, and the king goes forth a bankrupt. "

"If he lives, " judiciously. 

"Dead or alive, it matters not which; he goes. "

"And the wedding? What is it I hear about Prince Frederick and thepeasant girl?"

Johann laughed. "There will be no wedding. "

"And the princess?"

"A pretty morsel, a tidbit for the king that is to be. "

"The king that--eh, Johann, are you getting drunk so soon?" Stulerexclaimed. "I know of no king--"

Johann reached over and caught the innkeeper's wrist. The grasp was nogentle one. "Listen, that was a slip of the tongue. Repeat it, and thatfor your life! Do you understand, my friend?"

"Gott in--"

"Do you understand?" fiercely. 

"Yes, yes!" Stuler wiped his face with his apron. 

"Good, if you understand. It was naught but a slip of the tongue, "nonchalantly. "In a little week, my friend, your till will have novulgar silver in it; gold, yellow gold. "

"And the duchess?" with hesitance. The budget of news to-night was notof the usual kind. 

Johann did not answer, save by a shrug. 

The perturbation of the old man was so manifestly beyond control that hecould not trust his legs. He dropped on the stool, giving his grizzledhead a negative shake. "I would that you had made no slip of the tongue, Johann, " he murmured. "Gott, what is going on? The princess was not towed, to be sure, but the duchess passed--a king besides--"

"Silence!" enjoined Johann. "Stuler, I am about to venture on a daringenterprise, which, if successful, will mean plenty of gold. Come withme into your private office, where we shall not be interrupted noroverheard. " He vaulted the bar. Stuler looked undecided. "Come!"commanded Johann. With another shake of his head Stuler took down thetallow dip, unlocked the door, and bade Johann pass in. He caught upanother bottle and glass and followed. Without a word he filled theglass and set it down before Johann, who raised it and drank, his beadyeyes flashing over the rim of the glass and compelling the innkeeper towithdraw his gaze. 

"Well?" said Stuler, uneasily. 

"I need you. " Johann finished his glass with moderate slowness. "Yourstorehouse on the lake is empty?"

"Yes, but--"

"I shall want it, two nights from this, in case Madame the duchess doesnot conquer the Englishman. I shall want two fellows who will ask noquestions, but who will follow my instructions to the letter. It is anabduction. "

"A nasty business, " was Stuler's comment. "You have women to thank foryour present occupation, Johann. "

"Stuler, you are a fool. It is not a woman; it is a crown. "

"Eh?" Stuler's eyes bulged. 

"A crown. The duchess may remain a duchess. Who is master in Bleibergto-day? At whose word the army moves or stands? At whose word the Osiansfall or reign? On whom does the duchess rely? Who is king in deed, if not in fact? Who will find means to liquidate the kingdom'sindebtedness, whoever may be the creditor? Pah! the princess may marry, but the groom will not be Prince Frederick. The man she will marrywill be the husband of a queen, and he will be a king behind a woman'sskirts. It is what the French call a coup d'etat. She will be glad tomarry; there is no alternative. She will submit, if only that her fathermay die in peace. "

"And this king?" in a whisper. 

"You are old, Stuler; you remember many things of the past. Do yourecollect a prince of a noble Austrian house by the name of Walmoden, once an aide to the emperor, who was cashiered from the army and exiledfor corresponding with France?"

Stuler's hand shook as he brushed his forehead. "Yes, I recollect. He fought against the Prussians in the Franco-Prussian war, thendisappeared, to be heard of again as living in a South Americanrepublic. But what has he to do with all this? Ah, Johann, this is deepwater. "

"For those who have not learned to swim. You will aid me? A thousandcrowns--two hundred pieces of gold like that which has just passed frommy pocket into yours. It is politics. "

"But the sacking of the town?"

"A jest. If Madame the duchess conquers the Englishman, the king that isto be will pay her. Then, if she wages war Austria can say nothing fordefending ourselves. "

"And Walmoden?" Stuler struck his forehead with his fist as if to poundit into a state of lucidity. "Where is he? It is a stone wall; I can seenothing. "

"Beauvais. "

"Beauvais!" Stuler half rose from his chair, but sank again. 

"Exactly. This play, for some reason unexplained, is the price of hisreestablishment into the graces of the noble Hapsburgs. Between us, I think the prince is playing a game for himself. But who shall blamehim?"

"The devil! I thought Austria was very favorable to the Osian house. "

"Favorable or not, it is nothing to us. "

"Well, well, it's a thousand crowns, " philosophically. 

"That's the sentiment, " laughed Johann. "It is not high treason, itis not lese majeste; it is not a crime; it is a thousand crowns. Votresante, as the damned French say!" swallowing what was left of the wine. "And then, it is purely patriotic in us, " with a deceitful smile. 

"The storehouse is yours, and the men. Now tell me how 'tis to beplayed. "

"Where does her Royal Highness go each Thursday evening, accompanied byher eternal cuirassiers, von Mitter and Scharfenstein?"

"Where but to see her old nurse Elizabeth? But two men will not beenough. Von Mitter and Scharfenstein--"

"Will as usual remain at the carriage. But what's to prevent the menfrom gaining entrance by the rear?--carrying off her Highness that way, passing through the alley and making off, to be a mile away before thecuirassiers even dream of the attempt?"

"After all, I'd rather the duchess. "

"We can not all be kings and queens. " Johann got up and slapped Stulerfamiliarly on the shoulder. "Forget not the gold, the yellow gold;little heaps of it to finger, to count, and to spend. "

Stuler's eyes gleamed phosphorescently. There was the strain of theancient marauder in his veins; gold easily gotten. He opened the door, and Johann passed out, swaying. The wine was taking hold of him. Heturned into the hall, while Stuler busied himself with the spigots. Some one discovered the spy, and called him by name; it was caught up byothers, and there were numerous calls for a speech. 

As a socialist Johann was well known about the lower town. Besides, fiveyears gone, he himself had been a student and a brother of freedom. Hehad fought a dozen successful duels, and finally had been expelled fromthe university for beating a professor who had objected to his conductin the presence of ladies. Other ill reports added to his popularity. To be popular in this whimsical world of ours, one has either to be verygood or very bad. Johann was not unwilling to speak. Stuler had givenhim the cue; the cuirassiers. His advice was secretly to arm and holdin readiness. As this was the substance of the other speeches, Johannreceived his meed of applause. 

"And let us not forget the bulldog; let us kill him, too, " cried oneof the auditors; "the prodigal bulldog, who has lived on our fattedcalves. "

This was unanimously adopted. The bulldog was not understood; and hesmacked of the English. Then, too, the bulldog roamed too freely in theroyal enclosures; and, until late years, trespassers fared badly. Thestudents considered that their privileges extended everywhere; the dog, not being conversant with these privileges, took that side which in lawis called the benefit of a doubt. 

After his speech Johann retired to the bar-room. What he desired most ofall was a replenished purse. Popular he was; but the students knew hisfailings, among which stood prominently that of a forgetful borrower. They would buy him drinks, clothes and food, if need be, but they wouldnot lend him a stiver. And he could not borrow from Stuler, whose lawwas only to trust. Johann gambled, and wine always brought back themad fever for play. The night before he had lost rather heavily, and hewanted to recover his losses. Rouge-et-noir had pinched him; he would berevenged on the roulette. All day long combinations and numbers dancedbefore his eyes. He had devised several plans by which to raise money, but these had fallen through. Suddenly he smiled, and beckoned toStuler. 

"Stuler, how much will you advance me, " he asked, "on a shotgun worthone hundred crowns?"

"A shotgun worth one hundred crowns? Ten. "

Johann made a negative gesture. "Fifty or none. You can sell itfor seventy-five in the morning. So could I, only I want the moneyto-night. "

"If you want wine--" began Stuler. 

"I want money. "

Stuler scratched his nose. "Bring the gun to me. If it is worth what yousay, I'll see what I can do. "

"In an hour;" and Johann went out. A cold thin rain was falling, and adash of it in the face had a cooling effect. Somehow, the exhilarationof the wine was gone, and his mood took a sullen turn. Money! he wasever in need of money. He cursed his ill luck. He cursed the causeof it--drink. But for drink he would not have been plain Johann Kopf, brawler, outcast, spy, disowned by his family and all save those whocould use him. He remained standing in the doorway, brooding. 

At last he drew his collar about his throat and struck off, a blackshadow in a bank of gray. When he reached that part of the streetopposite the Grand Hotel, he stopped and sought shelter under an awning. The night patrol came clattering down the street. It passed quickly, andsoon all was still again. Johann stepped out and peered up and down. Thestreet was deserted. All the hotel windows were in gloom, save a feeblelight which beamed from the office windows. 

Would it be robbery? He had not yet stooped to that. But he could hearthe ivory ball clatter as it fell into the lucky numbers. He had apremonition that he would win if he stuck to a single combination. Hewould redeem the gun, replace it, and no one would be any the wiser. If his numbers failed him. .. .. No matter. He determined to cross theRubicon. He traversed the street and disappeared into the cavernousalley, shortly to loom up in the deserted courtyard of the hotel. Hecounted the windows on the first floor and stopped at the fourth. Thatwas the window he must enter. Noiselessly he crept along the walls, stopping now and then to listen. There was no sound except themonotonous dripping of the rain, which was growing thinner and colder. 

Presently he came across the ladder he was seeking. He raised it to therequired height, and once more placed his hand to his ear. Silence. Hemounted the rounds to the window, which he found unfastened. In anothermoment he was in the room. Not an object could he see, so deep was thedarkness. If he moved without light he was likely to stumble, and heydeyto his fifty crowns, not to say his liberty for many days to come. Hecarefully drew the blinds and struck a match. The first object whichmet his gaze was a fallen candle. This he lit and when the glare of theflame softened, all the corners of the room stood out. Nowhere was thereany sign of a gun. He gave vent to a half-muttered curse. Some one hadpilfered the gun, or the proprietor was keeping it until the Englishmanreturned from the duchy. But he remembered that there were two guns, oneof which the Englishman did not use in the hunting expeditions. 

So he began a thorough search. It meant fifty crowns, green baize andthe whims of fortune. Cautiously he moved between the fallen chairs. Helooked behind the bed, under the dresser, but without success. His handclosed savagely around the candle, and he swore inaudibly. He threw backthe bed coverings, not that he expected to find anything, but becausehe could vent his rage on these silent, noiseless things. When he liftedthe mattress it was then he took a deep breath and smiled. What he sawwas a gun case. He drew it from under. It was heavy; his fifty crownswere inside. Next he picked up a candlestick and stuffed the candle intoit, and laid a quilt against the threshold of the door so that no lightwould pierce the corridor. 

"This is the gun the Englishman did not use in the hunting expeditions, "he thought. "If it is out of repair, as he said it was, my fifty crownsare not so many pfennige. The devil! it must be a valuable piece ofgunsmithing, to hide it under the bedclothes. Let me see if my crownsare for the picking. "

He investigated forthwith. The hammers and the triggers worked smoothly. He unlocked the breech and held the nozzles toward the candle light--andagain cursed. The barrels were clogged up. Notwithstanding, he pluckedforth the cleaning-rod and forced it into one of the tubes. There wasa slight resistance, and something fluttered to the floor and rolledabout. The second tube was treated likewise, with the same result. Johann laughed silently. The fifty crowns were tangible; he could hearthem jingling in his pocket, and a pretty music they made. He returnedthe leather case to its original place and devoted his attention to thecylinder-shaped papers on the floor. 

For a quarter of an hour Johann remained seated on the floor, in thewavering candle light, forgetful of all save the delicate tracings ofsteel engraving, the red and green inks, the great golden seal, thesignatures, the immensity of the ciphers which trailed halfway acrosseach crackling parchment. He counted sixteen of them in all. Fourmillions of crowns. .. . He was rich, rich beyond all his wildest dreams. 

He rose, and restored the gun to its case. Fifty crowns? No, no! Ahundred thousand, not a crown less; a hundred thousand! all thoughts ofthe green baize and the rattle of the roulette ball passed away. Therewas no need to seek fortune; she had come to him of her own free will. Wine, Gertrude of the opera, Paris and a life of ease; all these werehis. A hundred thousand crowns, a hundred thousand florins, two hundredthousand francs, two hundred thousand marks! He computed in all monetarydenominations; in all countries it was wealth. 

Something rose and swelled in his throat, and he choked hysterically. Avoice whispered "No, not a hundred thousand; four millions!" But reason, though it tottered, regained its balance, and he saw the utter futilityof attempting to dispose of the orders on the government independently. His hands trembled; he could scarcely hold this vast treasure. Twice, in his haste to pocket the certificates, they slipped from his graspand scattered. How those six syllables frolicked in his mind! A hundredthousand crowns!

He extinguished the candle and laid it on the floor, put the quilton the bed, then climbed through the window, which he closed withoutmishap. He descended the ladder. As he reached the bottom round hisheart gave a great leap. From the alley came the sound of approachingsteps. Nearer and nearer they came; a shadow entered the courtyard andmade straight for the door, which was but a few feet from the recliningladder. The kitchen door opened and the burst of light revealed abelated serving maid. A moment passed, and all became dark again. ButJohann felt a strange weakness in his knees, and a peculiar thrill atthe roots of his hair. He dared not move for three or four minutes. Buthe waited in vain for other steps. He cursed the serving maid for thefright, disposed of the ladder, and sought the street. He directed hissteps toward Stuler's. 

"The pig of an Englishman was deeper than I thought. In the gun barrels, the gun barrels! If I had not wanted to play they would have been thereyet! A hundred thousand crowns!"

It had ceased to rain, and a frost was congealing the moisture underfoot. On the way back to Stuler's Johann slipped and fell several times;but he was impervious to pain, bruises were nothing. He was rich! Helaughed; and from time to time thrust his hand into his vest to convincehimself that he was not dreaming. To whom should he sell? To the Osians?To the duchess? To the king that was to be? Who would pay quickest thehundred thousand crowns? He knew. Aye, two hundred thousand would not betoo much. The Englishman would send for the certificates, but his agentwould not find them. The abduction? He would carry it through as hehad promised. It was five thousand crowns in addition to his hundredthousand. He was rich! He shook his hand toward the inky sky, towardthe palace, toward all that signified the past. .. .. A hundred thousandcrowns!

CHAPTER XVI. WHAT HAPPENED AT THE ARCHBISHOP'S PALACE AND AFTER

Maurice, as he labored before his mirror, wondered why in the world ittook him so long to dress. An hour had passed since he began his eveningtoilet; yet here he was, still tinkering, so to speak, over the lastof a dozen cravats. The eleven others lay strewn about, hopelesslycrumpled; mute witnesses of angry fingers and impassioned mutterings. Usually he could slip into his evening clothes in less than thirtyminutes. Something was wrong. But perhaps this occasion was not usual. 

First, the hems of his trousers were insurgent; they persisted inhitching on the tops of his button shoes. Laces were substituted. Thencame a desultory period, during which gold buttons were exchanged forpearl and pearl for gold, and two-button shirts for three-button. ForMaurice was something of a dandy. He could not imagine what was thematter with his neck, all the collars seemed so small. For once hismishaps did not appeal to his humor. The ascent from his shoes to hiscollar was as tortuous as that of the alpine Jungfrau. 

Ah, Madam, you may smile as much as you please, but it is a terriblething for a man to dress and at the same time think kindly of hisfellow-beings. You set aside three hours for your toilet, and devote twohours to the little curl which droops over the tip of your dainty ear;but with a man who has no curl, who knows nothing of the practice ofsmiles and side glances, the studied carelessness of a pose, it is adismal, serious business up to the last moment. 

With a final glance into the mirror, and convinced that if he touchedhimself it would be only to disarrange the perfection which he hadstriven so hard to attain, Maurice went down stairs. He had still anhour to while away before presenting himself at the archbishop's palace. So he roamed about the verandas, twirled his cane, and smoked like acaptain who expects to see his men in active engagement the very nextmoment. This, together with the bad hour in his room, was an indicationthat his nerves were finely strung. 

He was nervous, not because he was to see strange faces, not because hisinterest in the kingdom's affairs was both comic and tragic, nor becausehe was to present himself at the archbishop's in a peculiar capacity, that of a prisoner on parole. No, it was due to none of these. Hispulse did not stir at the prospect of meeting the true king. Diplomaticfunctions were every-day events with him. He had passed several years ofhis life in the vicinity of emperors, kings, viceroys, and presidents, and their greatness had long ago ceased to interest or even to amusehim. He was conscious only of an agitation which had already passedthrough the process of analysis. He loved, he loved the impossibleand the unattainable, and it was the exhilaration of this thought thatagitated him. He never would be the same again--he would be better. Neither did he regret this love. 

Even now he could see himself back in his rooms in Vienna, smokingbefore the fire, and building castles that tumbled down. It was worthwhile, if only to have something to dream about. He did not regret thelove, he regretted its futility. How could he serve her? What could hedo against all these unseen forces which were crumbling her father'sthrone? So she remembered what he had said to her in the archbishop'sgarden? He looked at his watch. It was nine. 

"Let us be off, " he said. He started for the Platz. "How uncertain lifeis. It seems that I did not come to Bleiberg carelessly in the way ofamusement, but to work out a part of my destiny. " He arrested his stepsat the fountain and listened to the low, musical plash of the water, each drop of which fell with the light of a dazzling jewel. The coldstars shone from above. They were not farther away than she. A princess, a lonely and forlorn princess, hemmed in by the fabric of royal laws; aprincess yet possessing less liberty than the meanest of her peasants. Nothing belonged to her, not even her heart, which was merchandise, acommodity of exchange, turned over to the highest bidder. "Royalty, " hemused, "is a political slave-dealer; the slaves are those who wear thecrowns. "

Once inside the palace, he became a man of the world, polished, nonchalant, handsome, and mildly curious. Immediately after the usherannounced his name, he crossed the chamber and presented his respects tothe prelate, who, he reasoned not unwisely, expected him. The friendlygreeting of the archbishop confirmed this reasoning. 

"I am delighted to see you, Monsieur, " he said, showing his remarkablywell preserved teeth in the smile that followed his words. "A serviceto her Royal Highness is a service to me. Amuse yourself; you will findsome fine paintings in the west gallery. "

"I trust her Royal Highness is none the worse for the fright, " Mauricereplied. He also remarked (mentally) that he did not see her Highnessanywhere. Several introductions followed, and he found himself chattingwith the British minister. 

"Carewe?" the Englishman repeated thoughtfully. "Are you not MauriceCarewe, of the American Legation in Vienna?"

"Yes. "

"May I ask you a few questions?"

"A thousand. "

"A fellow-countryman of mine has mysteriously disappeared. He leftVienna for Bleiberg, saying that if nothing was heard of him within aweek's time, to make inquiries about him. This request was left withthe British ambassador, who has just written me, adding that a personalfriend of the gentleman in question was in Bleiberg, and that thisfriend was Maurice Carewe, attache to the American Legation. Are youacquainted with Lord Fitzgerald, son of my late predecessor?"

"I am indeed. I saw him in Vienna, " said Maurice; "but he said nothingto me about coming here, " which was true enough. "Is there any cause forapprehension?"

"Only his request to be looked up within a certain time. The truth is, he was to have come here on a peculiar errand, " with lowered voice. "Didyou ever hear of what is called 'Fitzgerald's folly?'"

"Yes; few haven't heard of it. " Maurice could never understand why heresisted the impulse to tell the whole affair. A dozen words to the manat his side, and the catastrophes, even embryonic, would be averted. "You must tell me who most of these people are, " he said, in order toget around a disagreeable subject. "I am a total stranger. "

"With pleasure. That tall, angular old man, in the long, gray frock, with decorations, is Marshal Kampf. You must meet him; he is thewittiest man in Bleiberg. The gentleman with the red beard is Mollendorfof the police. And beside him--yes, the little man with glasses and aloose cravat--is Count von Wallenstein, the minister of finance. Thatis the chancellor talking to the archbishop. Ah, Mr. Carewe, thesereceptions are fine comedies. The Marshal, the count and Mollendorfrepresent what is called the Auersperg faction under the rose. It is acontinual battle of eyes and tongues. One smiles at his enemy, knows himto be an enemy, yet dares not touch him. 

"Confidentially, this play has never had the like. To convict hisenemies of treason has been for ten years the labor of the chancellor;yet, though he knows them to be in correspondence with the duchess, he can find nothing on the strength of which to accuse openly. It is aconspiracy which has no papers. One can not take out a man's brains andsay, `Here is proof!' They talk, they walk on thin ice; but so fineis their craft that no incautious word ever falls, nor does any one gothrough the ice. 

"I have watched the play for ten years. I should not speak to you aboutit, only it is one of those things known to all here. Those gentlementalking to the chancellor's wife are the ministers from Austria, Prussia, France, and Servia. You will not find it as lively here as itis in Vienna. We meet merely to watch each other, " with a short laugh. "Good. The Marshal is approaching. "

They waited. 

"Marshal, " said the minister, "this is Monsieur Carewe, who rescued herHighness's dog from the students. "

"Ah!" replied the Marshal, grimly. "Do not expect me to thank you, Monsieur; only day before yesterday the dog snapped at my legs. I amliving out of pure spite, to see that dog die before I do. Peace to hisashes--the sooner the better. "

The minister turned to Maurice and laughed. 

"Eh!" said the Marshal. 

"I prophesied that you would speak disparagingly of the dog. "

"What a reputation!" cried the old soldier. "I dare say that you havebeen telling Monsieur Carewe that I am a wit. Monsieur, never attemptto be witty; they will put you down for a wit, and laugh at anything yousay, even when you put yourself out to speak the truth. If I possess anywit it is like young grapes--sour. You are connected in Vienna?"

"With the American Legation. "

"Happy is the country, " said the Marshal, "which is so far away thatEurope can find no excuse to meddle with it. "

"And even then Europe would not dare, " Maurice replied, withimpertinence aforethought. 

"That is not a diplomatic speech. "

"It is true. "

"I like your frankness. "

"Let that go toward making amends for saving the dog. "

"Are all American diplomats so frank?" inquired the Marshal, with an airof feigned wonder. 

"Indeed, no, " answered Maurice. "Just at present I am not in adiplomatic capacity; I need not look askance at truth. And there is noreason why we should not always be truthful. "

"You are wrong. It's truth's infrequency which makes her so charming andrefreshing. However, I thank you for your services to her Highness; yourservices to her dog I shall try to forget. " And with this the Marshalmoved away, shaking his head as if he had inadvertently stumbled on anintricate problem. 

Not long after, Maurice was left to his own devices. He viewed thescene, silent and curious. Conversation was carried on in low tones, and laughter was infrequent and subdued. The women dressed withoutostentation. There were no fair arms and necks. Indeed, these belongwholly to youth, and youth was not a factor at the archbishop'sreceptions. Most of the men were old and bald, and only the wives of theFrench and British ministers were pretty or young. How different fromVienna, where youth and beauty abound! There were no music, no longtables of refreshments, no sparkling wines, no smoking-room, goodstories and better fellowship. There was an absence of the flash ofjewels and color which make court life attractive. 

There seemed to be hanging in the air some invisible power, the forecastof a tragedy, the beginning of an unknown end. And yet the prelatesmiled on enemies and friends alike. As Maurice observed that smile hegrew perplexed. It was a smile such as he had seen on the faces of menwho, about to die, felt the grim satisfaction of having an enemy forcompany. The king lay on his death bed, in all probabilities the thronetottered; yet the archbishop smiled. 

The princess did not know that her father was dying; this was a secretwhich had not yet been divulged to her. And this was the only societyshe knew. Small wonder that she was sad and lonely. To be young, and tofind one's self surrounded by the relics of youth; what an existence!She had never known the beauty of a glittering ballroom, felt the musicof a waltz mingle with the quick throbs of the heart, the pleasureof bestowing pleasure. She had never read the mute yet intelligentadmiration in a young man's eyes. And what young woman does not yearnfor the honest adoration of an honest man? Poor, lonely princess indeed. For, loving the world as he himself did, Maurice understood what wasslipping past her. Every moment the roots of love were sinking deeperinto his heart and twining firmly about, as a vine to a trellis. 

Is there a mental telegraphy, an indefinable substance which is affectedby the close proximity of a presence, which, while we do not see, we feel? Perhaps; at any rate, Maurice suddenly became aware of thatpeculiar yet now familiar agitation of his nerves. Instinctively heturned his head. In the doorway which separated the chamber from theconservatory stood her Royal Highness. She was dressed entirely inblack, which accentuated the whiteness--the Carrara marble whiteness--ofher exquisite skin. In the dark, shining coils swept back from her browlay the subtle snare of a red rose. There was no other color except onthe full lips. She saw Maurice, but she was so far away that the faintreflection of the rose on her cheeks was gone before he reached herside. 

"I was afraid, " she said, lowering her eyes as she uttered the fib, "that you would not come after all. "

"It would have been impossible for me to stay away, " he replied, hiseyes ardent. The princess looked away. "And may I ask after the healthof the dog?"

"Thanks to you, Monsieur; he is getting along finely. Poor dog; hewill always limp. What is it that makes men inflict injuries on dumbcreatures?"

"It is the beast that is envious of the brute. "

"And your hand?" with a glance sympathetic and inquiring. 

"My hand?"

"Yes; did you not injure it?"

"O!" He laughed and held out two gloved hands for her inspection. "Thatwas only a scratch. In fact, I do not remember which hand it was. "

"You are very modest. I should have made much of it. "

He could not translate this; so he said: "There was nothing injured butmy hat. I seem unfortunate in that direction. "

She smiled, recalling the incident in the archbishop's garden. 

"I shall keep the hat, however, " he said, "as a souvenir. "

"Souvenirs, Monsieur, " she replied carelessly, "and old age aresynonymous. You and I ought not to have any souvenirs. Have you seenthe picture gallery? No? Then I shall have the pleasure of showing itto you. Monseigneur is very proud of his gallery. He has a Leonardo, aBotticelli, a Murillo, and a Rembrandt. And they really show better inartificial light, which softens the effect of time. "

Half an hour was passed in the gallery. It was very pleasant tolisten to her voice as she described this and that painting, and thearchbishop's adventures in securing them. It did not seem possible tohim that she was a princess, perhaps destined to become a queen, so freewas she from the attributes of royalty, so natural and ingenuous. Hecaught each movement of her delicate head, each gesture of her hand, thecountless inflections of her voice, the lights which burned or died awayin the dark wine of her eyes. 

Poor devil! he mused, himself in mind; poor fool! He forgot the world, he forgot that he was a prisoner on parole, he forgot the strife betweenthe kingdom and the duchy, he forgot everything but the wild impossiblelove which filled his senses. He forgot even Prince Frederick ofCarnavia. 

In truth, the world was "a sorry scheme of things. " It was grotesquewith inequalities. He had no right to love her; it was wrong to givein to the impulses of the heart, the natural, human impulses. A man canbeat down the stone walls of a fort, scale the impregnable heights ofa citadel, master the earth and the seas, but he can not surmountthe invisible barriers which he himself erected in the past ages--thequality of birth. Ah! if only she had been a peasant, unlettered andunknown, and free to be won! The tasks of Hercules were then but play tohim!

Next she led him through the aisles of potted plants in theconservatory. She was very learned. She explained the origin of eachflower, its native soil, the time and manner of its transportation. Perhaps she was surprised at his lack of botanical knowledge, he askedso many questions. But it was not the flowers, it was her voice, whichurged him to these interrogations. 

They were on the point of re-entering the reception chamber, when thejingle of a spur on the mosaic floor caused them to turn. Maurice couldnot control the start; he had forgotten all about Beauvais. The soldierwore the regulation full dress of the cuirassiers, white trousers, tucked into patent leather half-boots, a gray jacket with gold lace anddecorations, red saber straps and a gray pelisse hanging from the leftshoulder. A splendid soldier, Maurice grudgingly admitted. What wouldthe Colonel say? The situation was humorous rather than otherwise, andMaurice smiled. 

"I was looking for your Highness, " said Beauvais, as he came up, "topay my respects. I am leaving. " His glance at Maurice was one of politecuriosity. 

"Colonel Beauvais, " said the princess, coldly, "Monsieur Carewe, of theAmerican Legation in Vienna. "

She was not looking at the Colonel, but Maurice was, and the Colonel'stotal lack of surprise astonished him. The gaze of the two men plungedinto each other's eyes like flashes of lightning, but that was all. 

"I am charmed, " said the Colonel, a half-ironical smile under hismustache. "Your name is not unfamiliar to me. "

"No?" said Maurice, with studied politeness. 

"No. It is connected with an exploit. Was it not you who faced thestudents this afternoon and rescued her Highness's dog?"

"Ah!" said Maurice, in a tone which implied that exploits were everyday events with him; "it was but a simple thing to do. The students werelike so many sheep. "

The princess elevated her brows; she felt an undercurrent of somethingwhich she did not understand. Indeed, she did not like the manner inwhich the two men eyed each other. Her glance passed from the stalwartsoldier to the slim, athletic form of the civilian. 

Conversation drifted aimlessly. Maurice had the malice to cast the bruntof it on the Colonel's shoulders. The princess, like a rose coming incontact with a chill air, drew within herself. She was cold, brief, andserenely indifferent. It was evident to Maurice that she had resumed herroyal mantle, and that she had shown him unusual consideration. 

Presently she raised her hand to her head, as sometimes one will dounconsciously, and the rose slipped from her hair and dropped to thefloor. Both men stooped. Maurice was quickest. With a bow he offered toreturn it. 

"You may keep it, Monsieur;" and she laughed. 

They joined her. Maurice knew why the Colonel laughed, and the Colonelknew why Maurice laughed; but neither could account for the laughter ofthe princess. That was her secret. 

All things come to an end, even diplomatic receptions. Soon the guestsbegan to leave. 

Said the princess to Maurice: "Your invitation is a standing one, Monsieur. To our friends there are no formalities. Good night; ah, yes, the English fashion, " extending her hand, which Maurice barely touched. "Good night, Monsieur, " to Beauvais, with one of those nods which witheras effectually as frost. 

The Colonel bent gracefully. 

"Decidedly the Colonel is not in high favor tonight, " thought Maurice;"a fact which is eminently satisfactory to me. Ah; he looks as if he hadsomething to say to me. Let us wait. "

"Monsieur, have you any other engagement this evening?" asked Beauvais, swinging his pelisse over both shoulders. "If not, my rooms are quitehandy. I have capital cigars and cognacs. Will you do me the honor? Ishould like to have you regale me with some Vienna gossip; it is so longsince I was there. "

"Thanks, " said Maurice. "I shall be happy to smoke your cigars and drinkyour cognacs. " He was in the mood for any adventure, comic or serious. He had an idea what the Colonel wanted to say to him, and he was notunwilling to listen. Besides, he had no fear; he now wore an amuletclose to his heart. 

"Come, then, " said Beauvais, gaily; and the two made off. "It is awonderful game of chess, this world of ours. "

"Yes, " said Maurice, "we do keep moving. "

"And every now and then one or the other of us steps out into the dark. "

"So we do. " Maurice glanced from the corner of his eye and calculatedhis chances in a physical contest with the Colonel. The soldier wastaller and broader, but it was possible for him to make good thisdeficiency with quickness. But, above all, where and under whatcircumstances had he met this man before?

"Here we are!" cried the Colonel, presently. 

He led Maurice into one of the handsome dwellings which faced the palaceconfines from the east. They passed up the stairs into a large room, Oriental in its appointments, and evidently the living room. The wallswere hung with the paraphernalia of a soldier, together with portraitsof opera singers, horses and celebrities of all classes. On the mantelMaurice saw, among other things, the glint of a revolver barrel. Hethought nothing of it then. It occurred to him as singular, however, that the room was free from central obstruction. Had the Colonelexpected to meet him at the archbishop's and anticipated his acceptanceof a possible invitation?

Two chairs stood on either side of the grate. Between them was anoctagon on which were cigars, glasses and two cognac bottles. TheColonel's valet came in and lit the tapers in the chandelier and wokeup the fire. .. . Maurice was convinced that the Colonel had arranged theroom thus for his especial benefit, and he regretted his eagerness foradventure. 

"Francois, " said Beauvais, throwing his shako and pelisse on the loungeand motioning to Maurice to do likewise, "let no one disturb us. "

The valet bowed and noiselessly retired. The two men sat down withoutspeaking. Beauvais passed the cigars. Maurice selected one, lit it, andblew rings at the Chinese mandarin which leered down at him from themantel. 

Several minutes marched into the past. 

"Maurice Carewe, " said the Colonel, as one who mused. 

"It is very droll, " said Maurice. 

"I can not say that it strikes me as droll, though I am not deficient inthe sense of humor. "

"'Twould be a pity if you were; you would miss so much. Through humorphilosophy reaches its culmination; humor is the foundation upon whichthe palace of reason erects itself. The two are inseparable. "

"How came you to be mixed up in this affair, which is no concern ofyours?"

"That question is respectfully referred to Madame the duchess. I wasthrown into it, head foremost, bound hand and foot. It was a cleverstroke, though eventually it will embarrass her. "

"You may give me the certificates, " said Beauvais. 

Maurice contemplated him serenely. "Impossible, " with a fillip at theend of his cigar. 

"You refuse?" coldly. 

"I do not refuse. Simply, I haven't got them. "

"What!" The Colonel half sprang from his chair. 

His astonishment was genuine; Maurice saw that it was, and he reflected. Madame nor Fitzgerald had been dishonest with him. 

"No. Some one has forestalled me. "

"Are you lying to me?" menacingly. 

"And if I were?" coolly. 

Beauvais measured his antagonist, his eyes hard and contemptuous. 

"I repeat, " said Maurice, "the situation is exceedingly droll. I am notafraid of you, not a bit. I am not a man to be intimidated. You mighthave inferred as much by my willingness to accompany you here. I amalone with you. "

"It is true that you are alone with me, " in a voice, which, though itdid not alarm Maurice, caused him to rest less comfortably in his chair. "In the first place, you know too much. "

"The knowledge was not of my own seeking. You will agree with me inthat. " He took a swallow of the cognac. "However, since I am in theaffair--"

"Well?"

"I'll see it to its end. "

"Perhaps. We shall not cross purposes. When men plot as I do, they stopat nothing, not even at that infinitesimal minutiae called the spark oflife. It becomes a matter of self-preservation. I am in too deep water;I must keep on. I can not now turn back; the first shore is too faraway. "

"Even villainy has its inconveniences, " Maurice observed. 

"What do you call villainy?"

"An act in which a man accepts pay from one to ruin him for another. That is villainy, without a single saving grace, for you are a nativeneither of the kingdom nor the duchy. "

"That is plain language. You do not take into consideration thevillain's motives. There may be certain ends necessary as his life'sblood, which may be gained only by villainy, which, after all, is a hardname for political conspiracy. "

"Oh, I do not suppose you are worse than the majority. But it appealsto me as rather a small, unmanly game when your victims are a man who isdying and a girl who knows nothing of the world nor its treachery. "

An almost imperceptible smile passed over Beauvais's countenance. "Soher Highness has captured your sympathies?" with a shade of banter. 

"I admit that; she would capture the sympathies of any man who has agood pair of eyes in his head. But you do not seem to be in favor justat present, " banter for banter. 

The Colonel studied the end of his cigar. "What is to be your stand inthis affair?"

"Neutral as possible, for the simple reason that I have passed my wordto Madame; compulsorily, it is true; I shall abide by it. That is notto say that my sympathies are not wholly with the Osians. Madame is abrilliant woman, resourceful, initiative; she has as many sides as a cutdiamond; moreover, her cause is just. But I do not like the way she hasgone about the recovery of her throne. She has broken, or will break, afine honest heart; she tried to break another, but, not being abovethe pantry maid, the subject of her attention failed to appreciate theconsideration. "

Beauvais laughed at this. "You are very good company. Let me advise youto remain neutral. I wish you no harm. But if you change your mind andstand in my path--"

"Well, and if I stood in your path?"

"Pouf! you would vanish. O, I should not stoop to murder; that is avulgar word and practice. I should place a sword in your hand and giveyou the preference of a gentleman's death. I see nothing to prevent mefrom carrying out that this very night, " with a nod toward the rapierswhich hung from the opposite wall. 

"You might be surprised at the result, " said Maurice, stretching hislegs. "But at present I have no desire to quarrel with you, or to putyour skill to a test. Once Madame gives me back my word, why, I do notsay. " He dipped his hand toward the ash-pan. "Human nature is full offreaks. A man will commit all sorts of crimes, yet stand by his word. Not that I have committed any crimes against the ten commandments. "

And so they fenced. 

"You picked up a rose to-night, " said the Colonel. 

"So I did. " Maurice blew a puff of smoke into the chimneyplace andwatched it sail upward and vanish. "Moreover, I propose to keep it. Haveyou any objections?"

"Only this: her Highness intended the rose for me. "

"No, no, my friend, " easily. "She would not have laughed had you pickedit up. "

"That is to say I lie?"

"It is, " laconically. 

There was no eluding a statement so bald as this. Beauvais sat upright. "To call me a liar is a privilege which I extend to no man. "

"I did not call you a liar, " undisturbed. "You wrote it down yourself, and I simply agreed to it. A duel? Well, I shall not fight you. Duelingis obsolete, and it never demonstrated the right or wrong of a cause. Since my part in this affair is one of neutrality, and since to gainthat knowledge was the object of your invitation, I will take my leaveof you. "

He rose and looked at the porcelain clock. As he did so his gaze restedon a small photograph standing at the side of it. He scanned it eagerly. It was a face of dark Castilian beauty. He turned and looked at Beauvaislong and earnestly. There was an answering gaze, an immobility ofcountenance. Maurice experienced a slight shock. The haze over hismemory was dispersed. The whole scene, in which this man loomed in theforeground, came back vividly. 

"Your stare, Monsieur, is annoying. "

"I shouldn't wonder, " replied Maurice, leaning against the mantel. 

"Do me the honor to explain it. "

Maurice, never dreaming of the trap, fell head foremost into it. "I havetraveled a good deal, " he began. "I have been--even to South America. "

"Ah!" This ejaculation expressed nothing. In fact, Beavais was smiling. There was a sinister something behind that smile, but Maurice wasunobservant. 

He went on. "Yes, to South America. I was there in a diplomaticcapacity, during one of the many revolutions. This country was theparadise of adventurers, the riff-raff of continental social outcasts. I distinctly remember the leader of this revolution. Up to the very lastday, Captain Urquijo was the confidential friend of the president whomhe was about to ruin. Through the president's beautiful daughter Urquijopicked up his threads and laid his powder train. The woman loved him aswomen sometimes love rascals. The president was to be assassinatedand his rival installed. Captain Urquijo was to be made General of thearmies. 

"One fine day the troops lined both sides of the plaza, the squarealso about which lay the government buildings. It was the event of somecelebration; I believe the throwing off of the yoke of Spain. Thecity flocked into the plaza. Strangely enough, those who weredisaffected--the soldiers under Urquijo--faced the loyal troops. Bya preconceived plan, the artillery was under the command of Urquijo. Suddenly this Captain's murderous and traitorous guns swept the plaza, mangling women and children. There was a flaw, however, in the stroke. Urquijo fled, a reward posted for his head--mind you, his head; they didnot want him alive. 

"The daughter expiates her foolish love in a convent. Her disgracesproved too much for her father, who blew out his brains. The successorsecured extradition papers in all the leading capitals of the world. Thestory was the sensation of the day; the newspapers made much of it. Allgovernments offered to assist the republic in hounding down this rascal. To whatever country he belonged, that country promised to disown him. "

Maurice took the photograph and cast it into Beauvais's lap. "Doyou recognize that face? Is it not a mute accusation to your warpedconscience?" The voice, changing from the monotone of narrative, grewstrong and contemptuous. "I know you. I recognized you the moment I laideyes on you, only I could not place you. Perhaps it was because itdid not seem possible that you would dare show your face to civilizedpeople. That photograph has done its work. By the Lord, but you're afine rascal! Not a bit changed. Have you forgotten your Spanish? As Godhears me, I shall hold you up. "

"You are a very young man, " said Beauvais, rising. He was still smiling. "Do you know why I asked you here? For this very reason. Madame divinedyou well. She said that you had a dash of what romanticists call valor, but that you never saw an inch before your nose. I knew that you wouldbe at the archbishop's; I knew that you would follow me to this room. Indeed, you might have suspected as much by the unusual arrangement ofthe fixtures of the room. I placed that photograph there, trusting toyour rather acute eyesight. 

"My memory seems to be better than yours. I knew you the first timeI saw you in Bleiborg. I was waiting only to see how much you hadremembered. I am not Colonel Beauvais; I am not Urquijo; I am the lastof a noble Austrian house, in exile, but on the eve of recall. Yourknowledge would, of course, be disastrous to my ambitions. That is whyI wanted to find out how much you know. You know too much, too much byhalf; and since you have walked into the lion's den, you shall neverleave it alive. " With this he sprang to the wall and tore down therapiers, one of which he flung at Maurice's feet. 

Maurice felt the hand of paralysis on his nerves. He looked at therapier, then at Beauvais, dazed and incapable of movement. It had beenso sudden. 

"And when they find you in some alley in the lower town they will putit down to thieves. You are young and thoughtless, " Beauvais went onbanteringly. "A little discretion and you might have gone with a wholeskin. We never forget a woman's face, and I knew that you would notforget hers. Don't trouble yourself about leaping through the windows;the fall will kill you less effectually than I shall. "

Maurice pulled himself together. The prospect of death brought backlucidity of mind. He at once saw the hopelessness of his position. Hecursed his lack of forethought. He became pale and furious, but hishead cleared. His life hung in the balance. He now translated Beauvais'ssmile. 

"So you wish to add another to the list?" he said. 

"To shield one crime, a man must commit many others. O, this will not bemurder. It will be a duel, in which you will have no chance. Pick up thesword, if only for form's sake. " Beauvais caught the wrist thong of therapier between his teeth and rapidly divested himself of his jacket andsaber straps. With his back toward the door, he rolled up his sleeve anddiscovered a formidable forearm. He tried the blade and thrust severaltimes into the air. 

"What promise have I, " said Maurice, "that you will not run me throughwhen I stoop for the sword?" This question did not serve. 

Beauvais laughed. "I never get angry in moments like these. I am givingyou a sword to ease my conscience. I do not assassinate boys. "

"But supposing I should kill you by chance?"

Beauvais laughed again. "That is not possible. "

Maurice had faced death before, but with more confidence. The thoughtthat he had poked his head into a trap stirred him disagreeably. He sawthat Beauvais possessed a superabundance of confidence, and confidenceis half of any battle. He picked up the sword and held it between hisknees, while he threw off his coat and vest, and unbuttoned his collarand cuffs. What he had to sell would be sold as dearly as possible. Hetested the blade, took in a deep breath, fell easily into position--andwaited. 

CHAPTER XVII. SOME PASSAGES AT ARMS

There comes a moment to every man, who faces an imminent danger, whenthe mental vision expands and he sees beyond. By this transient gift ofprescience he knows what the end will be, whether he is to live or die. As Maurice looked into the merciless eyes of his enemy, a dim knowledgecame to him that this was to be an event and not a catastrophe, afragment of a picture yet to be fully drawn. His confidence and couragereturned. He thanked God, however, that the light above equalized theirpositions, and that the shadows were behind them. 

The swords came together with a click light but ominous. ImmediatelyBeauvais stepped back, suddenly threw forward his body, and deliveredthree rapid thrusts. Maurice met them firmly, giving none. 

"Ah!" cried Beauvais; "that is good. You know a little. There will besport, besides. "

Maurice shut his lips the tighter, and worked purely on the defensive. His fencing master had taught him two things, silence and watchfulness. While Beauvais made use of his forearm, Maurice as yet depended solelyon his wrist. Once they came together, guard to guard, neither daringto break away until by mutual agreement, spoken only by the eyes, bothleaped backward out of reach. There was no sound save the quick lightstamp of feet and the angry murmur of steel scraping against steel. Sometimes they moved circlewise, with free blades, waiting and watching. Up to now Beauvais's play had been by the book, so to speak, and hebegan to see that his opponent was well read. 

"Which side is the pretty rose?" seeking to distract Maurice. "Tell me, and I will pin it to you. "

Not a muscle moved in Maurice's face. 

"It is too, bad, " went on Beauvais, "that her Highness finds a loveronly to lose him. You fool! I read your eyes when you picked up thatrose. Princesses are not for such as you. I will find her a lover, itwill be neither you nor Prince Frederick--ah! you caught that nicely. But you depend too much on the wrist. Presently it will tire; andthen--pouf!"

Now and then a a flame, darting from the grate, sparkled on the polishedsteel, and from the steel it shot into the watchful eyes. A quarterof an hour passed; still Maurice remained on the defensive. At firstBeauvais misunderstood the reason, and thought Maurice did not dare runthe risk of passing from defensive to offensive. But by and by the frothof impatience crept into his veins. He could not penetrate above orbelow that defense. The man before him was of marble, with a wrist ofiron; he neither smiled nor spoke, there was no sign of life at all, except in the agile legs, the wrist, and eyes. The Colonel decided tochange his tactics. 

"When I have killed you, " he said, "I shall search your pockets, forI know that you lie when you say that you have not those certificates. Madame was a fool to send you. No man lives who may be trusted. And whatis your game? Save the Osians? Small good it will do you. Her Highnesswill wed Prince Frederick--mayhap--and all you will get is cold thanks. And in such an event, have you reckoned on Madame the duchess? War! Andwho will win? Madame; for she has not only her own army, but mine. Come, come! Speak, for when you leave this room your voice will be silent. Make use of the gift, since it is about to leave you. "

The reply was a sudden straightening of the arm. The blade slipped inbetween the Colonel's forearm and body, and was out again before thesoldier fully comprehended what had happened. Maurice permitted a coldsmile to soften the rigidity of his face. Beauvais saw the smile, andread it. The thrust had been rendered harmless intentionally. An inchnearer, and he had been a dead man. To accomplish such a delicate pieceof sword play required nothing short of mastery. Beauvais experienced adisagreeable chill, which was not unmixed with chagrin. The boy had heldhis life in his hand, and had spared it. He set his teeth, and let loosewith a fury before which nothing could stand; and Maurice was forcedback step by step until he was almost up with the wall. 

"You damned fool!" the Colonel snarled, "you'll never get that chanceagain. "

For the next few minutes it took all the splendid defense Mauricepossessed to keep the spark in his body. The Colonel's sword was nolonger a sword, it was a flame; which circled, darted, hissed andwrithed. Twice Maurice felt the bite of it, once in the arm and again inthe thigh. These were not deep, but they told him that the end was buta short way off. He had no match for this brilliant assault. Somethingmust be done, and that at once. He did not desire the Colonel's death, and the possibility of accomplishing this was now extremely doubtful. But he wanted to live. Life was just beginning--the rough road hadbeen left behind. He was choosing between his life and the Colonel's. Beauvais, after the fashion of the old masters, was playing for thethroat. This upward thrusting, when continuous, is difficult to meet, and Maurice saw that sooner or later the blade would reach home. If notsudden death, it meant speechlessness, and death as a finality. Then thevoice of his guardian angel spoke. 

"I do not wish your life, " he said, breaking the silence, "but at thesame time I wish to live--ah!" Maurice leaped back just in time. As itwas, the point of his enemy's blade scratched his chin. 

They broke and circled. The Colonel feinted. Maurice, with his elbowagainst his side and his forearm extended, waited. Again the Colonellunged for the throat. This time, instead of meeting it in tierce, Maurice threw his whole force forward in such a manner as to bringthe steel guard of his rapier full on the Colonel's point. There was aringing sound of snapping steel, and the Colonel stood with nothing buta stump in his grasp. 

"There you are, " said Maurice, a heat-flash passing over him. Had heswerved a hair's breadth from the line, time would have tacked finis tothe tale. "Now, I am perfectly willing to talk, " putting his point tothe Colonel's breast. "It would inconvenience me to kill you, but do notcount too much on that. "

"Damn you!" cried the Colonel, giving way, his face yellow with rage, chagrin and fear. "Kill me, for I swear to God that one or the other ofus must die! Damn you and your meddling nose!"

"Damn away, chevalier d'industrie; damn away. But live, live, live! Thatwill be the keenest punishment. Live! O, my brave killer of boys, you thought to play with me as a cat with a mouse, eh? Eh, CaptainUrquijo-Beauvais-and-What-is-your-name?" He pressed the point here, there, everywhere. "You were too confident. Pardon me if I appear tobrag, but I have taken lessons of the best fencing masters in Europe, and three times, while you devoted your talents to monologues, I couldhave pinned you like one of those butterflies on the wall there. Haveyou ever heard of the sword of Damocles? Well, well; it hangs over manya head to-day. I will be yours. I give you forty-eight hours to arrangeyour personal affairs. If after that time you are still in this partof the country, I shall inform the proper authorities in Vienna. Therepublic has representation there. Of a noble Austrian house, on the eveof recall? I think not. "

Beauvais made a desperate attempt to clutch the blade in his hands. 

"No, no!" laughed Maurice, making rapid prods which caused Beauvais towince. "Now, back; farther, farther. I do not like the idea of having myback to the door. "

Beauvais suddenly wheeled and dashed for the mantel. But as heendeavored to lay hand on the revolver Maurice brought down the blade onthe Colonel's knuckles, leaving a livid welt. Maurice took possessionof the weapon, while a grimace of agony shot over the Colonel's face. Seeing that the chambers were loaded, Maurice threw down the sword. 

"Well, well!" he said, cocking the weapon. "And I saw it when I enteredthe room. It would have saved a good deal of trouble. " Beauvais grewwhite. "O, " Maurice continued, "I am not going to shoot you. I wishmerely to call your valet. " He aimed at the grate and pressed thetrigger, and the report, vibrating within the four walls, was deafening. 

A moment passed, and the valet, with bulging eyes and blanched face, peered in. Seeing how matters stood, he made as though to retreat. 

Maurice leveled the smoking revolver. "Come in, Francois; your masterwill have need of you. "

Francois complied, vertigo in his limbs. "My God!" he cried, wringinghis hands. 

"Your master tried to murder me, " said Maurice. Francois had heardvoices like this before, and it conveyed to him that a fine quality ofanger lay close to the surface. "Take down yonder window curtain cord. "Francois did so. "Now bind your master's hands with it. "

"Francois, " cried the Colonel, "if you so much as lay a finger on me, I'll kill you. "

"Francois, I will kill you if you don't, " said Maurice. 

"My God!" wailed the valet at loss which to obey when to obey eithermeant death. His teeth chattered. 

"You may have all the time you want, Francois, to wring your hands whenI am gone. Come; to work. Colonel, submit. I'm in a hurry and have notime to spare. While I do not desire to kill you, self-preservation willforce me to put a bullet into your hide, which will make you an inmateof the city hospital. Bind his hands behind his back, and no morenonsense. "

"Monsieur, " appealingly to Beauvais, "my God, I am forced. He will killme!"

"So will I, " grimly; "by God, I will!" Beauvais had a plan. If he couldkeep Maurice long enough, help might arrive. And he had an excellentstory to tell. Still Francois doddered. With his eye on the Colonel andthe revolver sighted, Maurice picked up the sword. He gave Francois avigorous prod. Francois needed no further inducement. He started forwardwith alacrity. In the wink of an eye he threw the cord around Beauvais'sarms and pinned them to his sides. Beauvais swore, but the valet wasstrong in his fright. He struggled and wound and knotted and tied, murmuring his pitiful "Mon Dieu!" the while, till the Colonel was thecentral figure of a Gordian knot. 

"That will do, " said Maurice. "Now, Francois, good and faithful servant, take your master over to the lounge, and sit down beside him until I getinto my clothes. Yes; that's it. " He shoved his collar and tie intoa pocket, slipped on his vest and coat, put on his hat and slung histopcoat over his arm. During these maneuvers the revolver remainedconspicuously in sight. "Now, Francois, lead the way to the street door. By the time you return to your illustrious master, who is the prince orduke of something or other, pursuit will be out of the question. Now, asfor you, " turning to Beauvais, "the forty-eight hours hold good. Duringthat time I shall go armed. Forty-eight hours from now I shall informthe authorities at the nearest consulate. If they catch you, that's youraffair. Off we go, Francois. "

"By God!--" began Beauvais, struggling to his feet. 

"Come so far as this door, " warned Maurice, "and, bound or not, I'llknock you down. Hang you! Do you think my temper will improve in yourimmediate vicinity? Do you think for a moment that I do not lust foryour blood as heartily as you lust for mine? Go to the devil your ownway; you'll go fast enough!" He caught Francois by the shoulders andpushed him into the hall, followed, and closed the door. Francois hadbeen graduated from the stables, therefore his courage never rose tosublime heights. All the way down the stairs he lamented; and each timehe turned his head and saw the glitter of the revolver barrel he chokedwith terror. 

"If you do not kill me, Monsieur, he will; he will, I know he will!My God, how did it happen? He will kill me!" and the voice sank into amuffled sob. 

Despite the gravity of the situation, Maurice could not repress hislaughter. "He will not harm you; he threatened you merely to delay me. Open the door. " He stepped out into the refreshing air. "By the way, tell your master not to go to the trouble of having me arrested, for thefirst thing in the morning I shall place a sealed packet in the handsof the British minister, to be opened if I do not call for it withintwenty-four hours. And say to your master that I shall keep the rose. "

"Mon Dieu! A woman! I might have known!" ejaculated Francois, as thedoor banged in his face. 

Maurice, on reaching the pavement, took to his legs, for he saw threemen rapidly approaching. Perhaps they had heard the pistol shot. Heconcluded not to wait to learn. He continued his rush till he gained hisroom. It was two o'clock. He had been in the Colonel's room nearly threehours. It seemed only so many minutes. He hunted for his brandy, foundit and swallowed several mouthfuls. Then he dropped into a chair fromsheer exhaustion. Reaction laid hold of him. His hands shook, his legstrembled, and perspiration rolled down his cheek. 

"By George!" This exclamation stood alone, but it was an Odyssey. Heremained stupefied, staring at his shoes, over which his stockings hadfallen. His shirt buttons were gone, and the bosom was guiltless of itsformer immaculateness. After a time he became conscious of a burningpain in the elbow of his right arm. He glanced down at his hand, to findit covered with drying blood. He jumped up and cast about his clothes. One leg of his trousers was soaked, and the dull ache in his thightold the cause. He salved the wounds and bound them in strips ofhandkerchiefs, which he held in place by using some of the cast-offcravats. 

"That was about as close to death as a man can get and pull out. Ifeel as if I had swallowed that cursed blade of his. I am an ass, sureenough. I've always a bad cold when there's a rat about; can't smellhim. And the rascal remembered me! Will he stay in spite of my threat?I'll hang on here till to-morrow. If he stays--I won't. He has thedevil's own of a sword. Hang it, my nerves are all gone to smash. "

Soon some gentler thought took hold, and he smiled tenderly. He broughtforth the rose, turned it this way and that, studied it, stroked it, held it to his lips as a lover holds the hand of the woman he loves. Herrose; somehow his heart told him that she had laughed because Beauvaishad stooped in vain. 

"Ah, Maurice, " he said, "you are growing over fond. But why not? Whowill know? To have loved is something. "

He crept into bed; but sleep refused him its offices, and he tossedabout in troubled dreams. He fought all kinds of duels with all sortsof weapons. He was killed a half dozen times, but the archbishopalways gave him something which rekindled the vital spark. A thousandBeauvaises raged at him. A thousand princesses were ever in thebackground, waiting to be saved. He swore to kill these Beauvaises, andafter many fruitless endeavors, he succeeded in smothering them in theirgray pelisses. Then he woke, as dreamers always wake when they pass somegreat dream-crisis, and found himself in a deadly struggle with a pillowand a bed-post. He laughed and sprang out of bed. 

"It's no use, I can't sleep. I am an old woman. "

So he lit his pipe and sat dreaming with his eyes open, smoking andsmoking, until the sickly pallor of dawn appeared in the sky, and heknew that day had come. 

CHAPTER XVIII. A MINOR CHORD AND A CHANGE OF MOVEMENT

Marshal Kampf, wrapt in his military cloak, with the peak of hiscap drawn over his eyes, sat on one of the rustic benches in thearchbishop's gardens and reflected. The archbishop had announced aninformal levee, the first since the king's illness. He had impressed theMarshal with the fact that his presence was both urgent and necessary. Disturbed as he was by the unusual command, the Marshal had arrived anhour too early. Since the prelate would not rise until nine, the Marshaltold the valet that he would wait in the gardens. 

An informal levee, he mused. What was the meaning of it? Had that masterof craft and silence found a breach in the enemy's fortifications? Herubbed the chill from his nose, crossed and re-crossed his legs andteetered till the spurs on his boots set up a tuneful jingle. 

So far as he himself was concerned, he was not worried. The prelate knewhis views and knew that he would stand or fall with them. He had neverlooked for benefits, as did those around him. He had offered what hehad without hope of reward, because he had considered it his duty. And, after all, what had the Osian done that he should be driven to thisignominious end? His motives never could be questioned; each act hadbeen in some way for the country's good. Every king is a usurper tothose who oppose him. 

Would the kingdom be bettered in having a queen against whom theconfederation itself was opposed? Would it not be adding a twofoldburden to the one? The kingdom was at peace with those countriesfrom which it had most to fear. Was it wise to antagonize them? Smallindependent states were independent only by courtesy. Again, why hadAustria contrived to place an alien on the throne, in face of popularsentiment? Would Austria's interests have been less safe in the adventof rightful succession? Up to now, what had Austria gained by ignoringthe true house? Outwardly nothing, but below the surface? Who couldanswer?

For eleven years he had tried to discover the secret purpose of Austria, but, like others, he had failed; and the Austrian minister was lessdecipherable than the "Chinese puzzle. " He was positive that none ofthe arch-conspirators knew; they were blinded by self-interest. And thearchbishop? The Marshal rubbed his nose again, not, however, becauseit was cold. Did any one know what was going on behind the smiling maskwhich the reticent prelate showed to the world? The Marshal poked hischin above his collar, and the wrinkles fell away from his gray eyes. 

The sky was clear and brilliant, and a tonic from the forests sweetenedthe rushing air. The lake was ruffled out of its usual calm, and rolledand galloped along the distant shores and flashed on the golden sands. Above the patches of red and brown and yellow the hills and mountainsstood out in bold, decided lines. 

Water fowl swept along the marshes. The doves in twos and threesfluttered down to the path, strutted about in their peculiarly awkwardfashion, and doubtfully eyed the silent gray figure on the bench, asif to question his right to be there this time of the morning, theirtrysting hour. Presently the whole flock came down, and began cooing andwaltzing at the Marshal's feet. He soon discovered the cause. 

Her Royal Highness was coming through the opening in the hedgerow whichseparated the two confines. She carried a basket on her arm, and thebulldog followed at her heels, holding his injured leg in the air, andlimping on the remaining three. At the sight of her the doves rose andcircled above her head. She smiled and threw into the air handful afterhandful of cake and bread crumbs. In their eagerness the doves alightedon her shoulders, on the rim of the basket, and even on the broadback of the dog, who was too sober to give attention to this seemingindignity. He kept his eye on his mistress's skirts, moved when shemoved, and stopped when she stopped. A gray-white cloud enveloped them. 

The Marshal, with a curious sensation in his heart, observed thisexquisite, living picture. He was childless; and though he was bynature undemonstrative, he was very fond of this youth. Her cheeks werescarlet, her rosy lips were parted in excitement, and her eyes glistenedwith pleasure. With all her twenty years, she was but ten in fancy;a woman, yet a child, unlettered in worldly wit, wise in her love ofnature. Not until she had thrown away the last of the crumbs did shenotice the Marshal. He rose and bowed. 

"Good morning, your Highness. I am very much interested in your court. And do you hold it every morning?"

"Even when it rains, " she said, smiling. "I am so glad to see you; Iwanted to talk to you last night, but I could not find the opportunity. Let me share the bench with you. "

And youth and age sat down together. The bulldog planted himself in themiddle of the path and blinked at his sworn enemy. The Marshal had nolove for him, and he was well aware of it; at present, an armistice. 

The princess gazed at the rollicking waters, at her doves, thence intothe inquiring gray eyes of the old soldier. 

"Do you remember, " she said, "how I used to climb on your knees, ever solong ago, and listen to your fairy stories?"

"Eh! And is it possible that your Highness remembers?" wrinkles ofdelight gathering in his cheeks. "But why `ever so long ago'? It was butyesterday. And your Highness remembers!"

"I am like my father; I never forget!" She looked toward the watersagain. "I can recall only one story. It was about a princess who lostall her friends through the offices of a wicked fairy. I remember itbecause it was the only story you told me that had a sad ending. It wasone of Andersen's. Her father and mother died, and the moment she wasleft alone her enemies set to work and toppled over her throne. She wascast out into the world, having no friend but a dog; but the dog alwaysfound something to eat, and protected her from giants and robbers andwolves. 

"Many a time I thought of her, and cried because she was so unhappy. Well, she traveled from place to place, footsore and weary, but in herown country no one dared aid her, for fear of displeasing the wickedfairy, who at this time was all powerful. So she entered a strange land, where some peasants took her in, clothed and fed her, and gave her astaff and a flock of geese to tend. And day after day she guarded theflock, telling her sorrows to the dog, how she missed the dear ones andthe home of her childhood. 

"One day the reigning prince of this strange land passed by whilehunting, and he saw the princess tending her geese. He made inquiries, and when he found that the beautiful goose-girl was a princess, heoffered to marry her. She consented to become his wife, because she wastoo delicate to drudge. So she and her dog went to live at the palace. Once she was married the dog behaved strangely, whining softly, andrefusing to be consoled. The prince was very kind to them both. 

"Alas! It seems that when she left her own country the good fairy hadlost all track of her, to find her when it was too late. The dog was aprince under a wicked spell, and when the spell fell away the princessknew that she loved him, and not her husband. She pined away anddied. How many times I have thought of her, poor, lonely, fairy-taleprincess!"

The old soldier blinked at the doves, and there was a furrow between hiseyes. Yes; how well he remembered telling her that story. But, as sherepeated it, it was clothed with a strange significance. Somehow, hefound himself voiceless; he knew not how to reply. 

"Monsieur, " she said suddenly, "tell me, what has my poor father donethat these people should hate him and desire his ruin?"

"He has been kind to them, my child, " his gaze still riveted on thedoves; "that is all. He has given them beautiful parks, he has made thema beautiful city. A king who thinks of his people's welfare is neverunderstood. And ignorant and ungrateful people always hate those to whomthey are under obligations. It is the way of the world. "

"And--and you, Marshal?" timidly. 

"And I?"

"Yes. They whisper that--that--O, Marshal, is it you who will forsakeus in our need? I have heard many things of late which were not intendedfor my ears. My father and I, we are so alone. I have never known thecomradeship of young people; I have never had that which youth longsfor--a confidant of my own age. The young people I know serve me simplyfor their own ends, and not because they love me. 

"I have never spoken thus before to-day, save to this dog. He has beenmy confidant; but he can not speak except with his kind old eyes, and hecan not understand as I would have him. And they hate even him becausethey know that I love him. Poor dog!

"What my father has done has always been wrong in his own eyes, but hesinned for my sake, and God will forgive him. He gave up the home heloved for my sake. O, that I had known and understood! I was only six. We are so alone; we have no place to go, no friends save two, and theyare helpless. And now I am to make a sacrifice for him to repay him forall he has done for me. I have promised my hand to one I do not love;even he forsakes me. But love is not the portion of princesses. Love tothem is a fairy story. To secure my father's throne I have sacrificed mygirlhood dreams. Ah! and they were so sweet and dear. "

She put a hand to her throat as if something had tightened there. "Marshal, I beg of you to tell me the truth, the truth! Is my fatherdying? Is he? He--they will not tell me the truth. And I. . . Never tohear his voice again! The truth, for pity's sake!" She caught at hishands and strove to read his eyes. "For pity's sake!"

He drew his breath deeply. He dared not look into her eyes for fear shemight see the tears in his; so he bent hastily and pressed her hands tohis lips. But in his heart he knew that his promise to the dead was gonewith the winds, and that he would shed the last drop of blood in hiswithered veins for the sake of this sad, lonely child. 

"Your father, my child, will never stand up straight again, " he said. "As for the rest, that is in the hands of God. But I swear to you thatthis dried-up old heart beats only for you. I will stand or fall withyou, in good times or bad. " And he rubbed his nose more fiercely thanever. "Had I a daughter--But there! I have none. "

"My heart is breaking, " she said, with a little sob. She sank back, herhead drooped to the arm of the bench, and she made no effort to stem theflood of tears. "I have no mother, and now my father is to leave me. And I love him so, I love him so! He has sacrificed all his happiness tosecure mine--in vain. I laugh and smile because he asks me to, and allthe while my heart is breaking, breaking. "

At this juncture the doves rose hurriedly. The Marshal discovered thearchbishop's valet making toward him. 

"Monsieur the Marshal, Monseigneur breakfasts and requests you to joinhim. "

"Immediately;" and the Marshal rose. He placed his hand on the darkhead. "Keep up your heart, my child, " he said, "and we shall see if Ihave grown too old for service. " He squared his shoulders and followedthe valet, who viewed the scene with a valet's usual nonchalance. Whenthe Marshal reached the steps to the side entrance, he looked back. Thedog had taken his place, and the girl had buried her face in his neck. Amoment later the old soldier was ushered into the archbishop's presence, but neither with fear nor uneasiness in his heart. 

"Ah! Good morning, Marshal, " said the prelate. "Be seated. Did you notfind it chilly in the gardens?"

"Not the least. It is a fine day. I have just left her Royal Highness. "

The prelate arched his eyebrows, and an interrogation shot out fromunder them. 

"Yes, " answered the observant soldier. "My heart has ever been hers;this time it is my hand and brain. "

The prelate's egg spoon remained poised in mid-air; then it dropped witha clatter into the cup! But a moment gone he had held a sword in hishand; he was disarmed. 

"I have promised to stand and fall with her. "

"Stand and fall? Why not 'or'?" with a long, steadfast gaze. 

"Did I say 'and'? Well, then, " stolidly, "perhaps that is the word Imeant to use. If I do the one I shall certainly do the other. "

The archbishop absently stirred his eggs. 

"God is witness, " said the Marshal, "I have always been honest. "

"Yes. "

"And neutral. "

"Yes; honest and neutral. "

"But a man, a lonely man like myself, can not always master the impulsesof the heart; and I have surrendered to mine. "

The listener turned to some documents which lay beside the cup, andidly fingered them. "I am glad; I am very glad. I have alwayssecretly admired you; and to tell the truth, I have feared you most ofall--because you are honest. "

The Marshal shifted his saber around and drew his knees together. "I return the compliment, " frankly. "I have never feared you; I havedistrusted you. "

"And why distrusted?"

"Because Leopold of Osia would never have forsaken his birthright, norlooked toward a throne, had you not pointed the way and coveted thearchbishopric. "

"I wished only to make him great;" but the prelate lowered his eyes. 

"And share his greatness, " was the shrewd rejoinder. "I am an oldman, and frankness in old age is pardonable. There are numbers ofdisinterested men in the world, but unfortunately they happen to bedead. O, I do not blame you; there is human nature in most of us. Butthe days of Richelieus and Mazarins are past. The Church is simply thechurch, and is no longer the power behind the throne. I have served thehouse of Auersperg for fifty years, that is to say, since I was sixteen;I had hoped to die in the service. Perhaps my own reason for distrustingyou has not been disinterested. "

"Perhaps not. "

"And as I now stand I shall die neither in the service of the house ofAuersperg nor of Osia. It is not the princess; it is the lonely girl. "

"I need not tell you, " said the prelate quietly, "that I am in Bleibergonly for that purpose. And since we are together, I will tell youthis: Madame the duchess will never sit upon this throne. To-day I ampractically regent, with full powers from his Majesty. I have summonedvon Wallenstein and Mollendorf for a purpose which I shall make known toyou. " He held up two documents, and gently waving them: "These containthe dismissal of both gentlemen, together with my reasons. There werethree; one I shall now destroy because it has suddenly become void. " Hetore it up, turned, and flung the pieces into the grate. 

The Marshal glanced instinctively at his shoulder straps, and saw thatthey had come very near to oblivion. 

"There is nothing more, Marshal, " went on the prelate. "What I had tosay to you has slipped my mind. Under the change of circumstances, itmight embarrass you to meet von Wallenstein and Mollendorf. You havespoken frankly, and in justice to you I will return in kind. Yes, in theold days I was ambitious; but God has punished me through those I love. I shall leave to you the selection of a new Colonel of the cuirassiers. "

"What! and Beauvais, too?" exclaimed the Marshal. 

"Yes. My plans require it. I have formed a new cabinet, which will meetto-night at eight. I shall expect you to be present. "

The two old men rose. Suddenly, a kindly smile broke through theaustereness of the prelate's countenance, and he thrust out his hand;the old soldier met it. 

"Providence always watches over the innocent, " said the prelate, "elsewe would have been still at war. Good morning. "

The Marshal returned home, thoughtful and taciturn. What would be theend?

Ten minutes after the Marshal's departure, von Wallenstein andMollendorf entered the prelate's breakfast room. 

"Good morning, Messieurs, " said the churchman, the expression on hisface losing its softness, and the glint of triumph stealing intohis keen eyes. "I am acting on behalf of his Majesty this morning, "presenting a document to each. "Observe them carefully. " He turned andleft the room. The archbishop had not only eaten a breakfast, he haddevoured a cabinet. 

Count von Wallenstein watched the retreating figure of the prelate tillthe door closed behind it; then he smiled at Mollendorf, who had not thecourage to return it, and who stared at the parchment in his hand as ifit were possessed of basilisk eyes. 

"Monseigneur, " said the count, as he glanced through the contents ofthe document, "has forestalled me. Well, well; I do not begrudge him hislast card. He has played it; let us go. "

"Perhaps, " faltered Mollendorf, "he has played his first card. What areyou going to do?"

"Remain at home and wait. And I shall not have long to wait. The end isnear. "

"Count, I tell you that the archbishop is not a man to play thus unlesssomething strong were behind him. You do wrong not to fear him. "

Von Wallenstein recalled the warning of the Colonel of the cuirassiers. "Nevertheless, we are too strong to fear him. "

"Monseigneur is in correspondence with Austria, " said the minister ofpolice, quietly. 

"You said nothing of this before, " was the surprised reply. 

"It was only this morning that I learned it. "

The count's gaze roamed about the room, and finally rested on thecharred slips of paper in the grate. He shrugged. 

"If he corresponds with Austria it is too late, " he said. "Come, let usgo. " He snapped his fingers in the air, and Mollendorf followed him fromthe room. 

* * * * * *

The princess still remained on the rustic bench; her head was bowed, buther tears were dried. 

"O, Bull, " she whispered, "and you and I shall soon be all alone!"

A few doves fluttered about her; the hills flamed beneath the chillSeptember sky, the waters sang and laughed, but she saw not nor heard. 

CHAPTER XIX. A CHANCE RIDE IN THE NIGHT

Maurice, who had wisely slept the larger part of the day, and amusedhimself at solitary billiards until dinner, came out on the terraceto smoke his after-dinner cigar. He watched the sun as, like a ball ofrusted brass, it slid down behind the hills, leaving the glowing embersof a smoldering day on the hilltops. The vermilion deepened into charredumber, and soon the west was a blackened grate; another day vanished inashes. The filmy golden pallor of twilight now blurred the landscape;the wind increased with a gayer, madder, keener touch; the lake wentbillowing in shadows of gray and black, and one by one the lamps of thecity sprang up, vivid as sparks from an anvil. Now and again the thin, clear music of the band drifted across from the park. The fountainglimmered in the Platz, the cafes began to glitter, carriages rolledhither and thither. The city had taken on its colorful night. 

"Well, here's another day gone, " he mused, rubbing his elbow, whichwas yet stiff. "I am anxious to know what that sinner is doing. Hashe pulled up stakes or has he stayed to get a whack at me? I hope he'sgone; he's a bad Indian, and if anything, he'll want my scalp in hisbelt before he goes. Hang it! It seems that I have poked my head intoevery bear trap in the kingdom. I may not get out of the next one. Howclever I was, to be sure! It all comes from loving the dramatic. I am adiplomat, but nobody would guess it at first sight. To talk to a man asI talked to him, and to threaten! He said I was young; I was, but I growolder every day. And the wise word now is, don't imitate the bull ofthe trestle, " as he recalled an American cartoon which at that day washaving vogue in the American colony in Vienna. 

"I like adventure, I know, but I'm going to give the Colonel a wideberth. If he sees me first, off the board I go. Where will he go--to theduchy? I trust not; we both can not settle in that territory; it's toosmall. And yet I am bound to go back; it is not my promise so much asit is my cursed curiosity. By George!" rubbing his elbow gently. "And tothink, Maurice, that you might not have witnessed this sunset but fora bit of fencing trickery. What a turn that picture of Inez gave me! Iknew him in a second--and like the ass I was, I told him so. And to meethim here, almost a left-handed king; no wonder I did not recognize him. 

"I should like to come in on Fitzgerald to-night. His father must havehad a crazy streak in him somewhere. Four millions to throw away;humph! And who the deuce has those certificates?" He lolled againstthe parapet. "If I had four millions, and if Prince Frederick haddisappeared for good. .. . Why are things so jumbled up, at sixes andsevens? We are all human beings; why should some be placed higher thanothers? A prince is no better than I am, and may be not half so good. 

"Sometimes I like to get up high somewhere and look down on every oneelse; every one else looks so small that it's comforting. The truephilosopher has no desire; he sits down and views the world as if hewere not a part of it. Perhaps it is best so. Yes, I would like fourmillions and a principality. .. . Heigho! how bracing the air is, and whata night for a ride! I've a mind to exercise Madame's horse. A long loneride on the opposite side of the lake, on the road to Italy; come, let'stry it. Better that than mope. "

He mounted to the veranda, and for the first time he noticed thesuppressed excitement which lit the faces of those around him. Groupswere gathered here and there, talking, gesticulating, and flourishingthe evening papers. He moved toward the nearest group. 

"The archbishop has dismissed the cabinet. .. Crisis imminent. "

"The Austrian minister has recalled his invitations to the embassyball. "

"The archbishop will not be able to form another cabinet. "

"Count von Wallenstein. .. "

"Mollendorf and Beauvais, too--"

"The king is dying. .. The archbishop has been given full powers. "

"The army will revolt unless Beauvais is recalled. "

"And the Marshal says here. .. "

Maurice waited to hear no more, but climbed through the window into theoffice. 

"By George, something has happened since last night. I must have anevening paper. " He found one, and read an elaborate account of what hadtaken place during the day. Von Wallenstein had been relieved of thefinance. Mollendorf of the police, Erzberg of foreign affairs, andBeauvais of his epaulettes. There remained only the archbishop, thechancellor and the Marshal. The editorial was virulent in its attack onthe archbishop, blustered and threatened, and predicted that the fallof the dynasty was but a matter of a few hours. For it asserted thatthe prelate could not form another cabinet, and without a cabinetthere could be no government. It was not possible for the archbishop toshoulder the burden alone; he must reinstate the ministry or fall. 

"And this is the beginning of the end, " said Maurice, throwing aside thepaper. "What will happen next? The old prelate is not a man to play tothe gallery. Has he found out the double dealing of Beauvais? That takesa burden off my shoulders--unless he goes at once to the duchy. But whywasn't the cabinet dismissed ages ago? It is now too late. And where isPrince Frederick to the rescue? There is something going on, and what itis only the archbishop knows. That smile of his! How will it end? I'dlike to see von Mitter, who seems to be a good gossip. And that poor, friendless, paralytic king! I say, but it makes the blood grow warm. "

He left the chair and paced the office confines. Only one thing wentechoing through his brain, and that was he could do nothing. The soonerhe settled down in the attitude of a spectator the better for him. Besides, he was an official in the employ of a foreign country, andit would be the height of indiscretion to meddle, even in a privatecapacity. It would be to jeopardize his diplomatic career, and thatwould be ridiculous. 

A porter touched him on the shoulder. 

"A letter for your Excellency. "

It was from the American minister in Vienna. 

"My dear Carewe: I have a service to ask of you. The British minister isworried over the disappearance of a fellow-countryman, Lord Fitzgerald. He set out for Bleiberg, leaving instructions to look him up if nothingwas heard of him within a week. Two weeks have gone. Knowing you tobe in Bleiberg, I believed you might take the trouble to look into theaffair. The British ambassador hints at strange things, as if he fearedfoul play. I shall have urgent need of you by the first of October; ourcharge d'affaires is to return home on account of ill-health, and yourappointment to that office is a matter of a few days. "

Maurice whistled. "That is good news; not Haine's illness, but that Ihave an excuse to meddle here. I'll telegraph at once. And I'll takethe ride besides. " He went to his room and buckled on his spurs, andthoughtfully slipped his revolver into a pocket. "I am not going to takeany chances, even in the dark. " Once again in the office, he steppedup to the desk and ordered his horse to be brought around to the cafeentrance. 

"Certainly, " said the clerk. Then in low tones "There has been a curiousexchange in saddles, Monsieur. "

"Saddles?"

"Yes. The saddle in your stall is, curiously enough, stamped with thearms of the house of Auersperg. How that military saddle came into thestables is more than the grooms can solve. "

"O, " said Maurice, with an assumption of carelessness; "that is allright. It's the saddle I arrived on. The horse and saddle belong toMadame the duchess. I have been visiting at the Red Chateau. I shallreturn in the morning. "

"Ah, " said the clerk, with a furtive smile which Maurice lost; "thataccounts for the mystery. "

"Here are two letters that must get in to-night's mails, " Maurice said;"and also this telegram should be sent at once. "

"As Monsieur desires. Ah, I came near forgetting. There is a note forMonsieur, which came this afternoon while Monsieur was asleep. "

The envelope was unstamped, and the scrawl was unfamiliar to Maurice. On opening it he was surprised to find a hurriedly written note fromFitzgerald. In all probability it had been brought by the midnightcourier on his return from the duchy. 

 "In God's name, Maurice, why do you linger? To-morrow morning those consols must be here or they will be useless. Hasten; you know what it means to me. Fitzgerald. "

Maurice perused it twice, and pulled at his lips. "Madame becomesimpatient. Poor devil. Somebody is likely to become suddenly richand somebody correspondingly poor. What will they say when I returnempty-handed? Like as not Madame will accuse me--and Fitzgerald willbelieve her!. .. The archbishop! That accounts for this bold move. Andhow the deuce did he get hold of them? I give up. " And his shoulderssettled in resignation. 

He passed down into the cafe, from there to his horse, which a groom washolding at the curb. He swung into the saddle and tossed a coin to theman, who touched his cap. 

The early moon lifted its silvery bulk above the ragged east, and thepatches of clouds which swarmed over the face of that white world ofsilence resembled so many rooks. Far away, at the farthermost shore ofthe lake, whenever the moon went free from the clouds, Maurice could seethe slim gray line of the road which stretched toward Italy. 

"It's a fine night, " he mused, glancing heavenward. The horse answeredthe touch of the spurs, and cantered away, glad enough to exchangethe close air of the stables for this fresh gift of the night. Mauriceguided him around the palaces into the avenue, which derived its namefrom the founder of the opera, in which most of the diplomatic familieslived. Past the residence of Beauvais he went, and, gazing up at thelightless windows, a cold of short duration seized his spine. It badbeen a hair's breadth betwixt him and death. "Your room, Colonel, isbetter than you company; and hereafter I shall endeavor to avoid both. Ishall feel that cursed blade of yours for weeks to come. "

Carriages rolled past him. A gay throng in evening dress wascrowding into the opera. The huge placard announced, "Norma--Mlle. Lenormand--Royal Opera Troupe. " How he would have liked to hear it, withLenormand in the title role. He laughed as he recalled the episodes inVienna which were associated with this queen of song. He waved hishand as the opera house sank in the distance. "Au revoir, Celeste, macharmante; adieu. " By and by he reached the deserted part of the city, and in less than a quarter of an hour branched off into the broad roadbordering the lake. The horse quickened his gait as he felt the stoneof the streets no longer beneath his feet, which now fell with muffledrhythm on the sound earth. Maurice shared with him the delight of theopen country, and began to talk to the animal. 

"A fine night, eh, old boy? I've ridden many backs, but none easier thanyours. This air is what gives the blood its color. Too bad; you oughtnot to belong to Madame. She will never think as much of you as Ishould. "

The city was falling away behind, and a yellow vapor rose over it. Thelake tumbled in moonshine. Maurice took to dreaming again--hope and athousand stars, love and a thousand dreams. 

"God knows I love her; but what's the use? We can not all have what wewant; let us make the best of what we have. Philosophy is a comfort onlyto old age. Why should youth bother to reason why? And I--I have not yetoutgrown youth. I believed I had, but I have not. I did not dream sheexisted, and now she is more to me than anything else in the world. Why; I wonder why? I look into a pair of brown eyes, and am seized withmadness. I hope. For what? O, Bucephalus! let us try to wake and leavethe dream behind. The gratitude of a princess and a dog. .. And for thisa rose. Well, it will prove the substance of many a pipe, many a kindlypipe. You miss a good deal, Bucephalus; smoking is an evil habit only tothose who have not learned to smoke. "

The animal replied with a low whinney, and Maurice, believing thatthe horse had given an ear to his monologue, laughed. But he flatteredhimself. The horse whinneyed because he inhaled the faint odor of hiskind. He drew down on the rein and settled into a swinging trot, whichto Maurice's surprise was faster and easier than the canter. Theycovered a mile this way, when Maurice's roving eye discovered movingshadows, perhaps half a mile in advance. 

"Hello! we're not the only ones jogging along. Eh, what's that?"Something flashed brightly, like silver reflecting moonlight; then camea spark of flame, which died immediately, and later Maurice caught anecho which resembled the bursting of a leaf against the lips. "Come;that looks like a pistol shot. "

Again the flash of silver, broader and clearer this time; and Mauricecould now separate the shadow-shapes. A carriage of some sort rolledfrom side to side, and two smaller shadows followed its wild flight. One--two--three times Maurice saw the sparks and heard the faintreports. He became excited. Something extraordinary was taking place onthe lonely road. Suddenly the top of the carriage replied with spitefulflashes of red. Then the moon came out from behind the clouds, andthe picture was vividly outlined. Two continuous flashes of silver. .. . Cuirassiers! Maurice loosened the rein, and the horse went forward assmoothly as a sail. The distance grew visibly less. The carriage openedfire again, and Maurice heard the sinister m-m-m of a bullet wingingpast him. 

"The wrong man may get hit, Bucephalus, " he said, bending to the neckof the horse; "which is not unusual. You're pulling them down, old boy;keep it up. There's trouble ahead, and since the cuirassiers are for theking, we'll stand by the cuirassiers. "

On they flew, nearer and nearer, until the pistol shots were no longerechoes. Two other horsemen came into view, in advance of the carriage. Five minutes more of this exciting chase, and the faces took on linesand grew into features. Up, up crept the gallant little horse, his hoofsrattling against the road like snares on a drum. When within a dozenrods, Maurice saw one of the cuirassiers turn and level a revolver athim. Fortunately the horse swerved, and the ball went wide. 

"Don't shoot!" Maurice yelled; "don't shoot!"

The face he saw was von Mitter's. His heart clogged in his throat, notat the danger which threatened him, but at the thought of what thatcarriage might contain. 

A short time passed, during which nothing was heard but the strikingof galloping hoofs and the rumble of the carriage. Maurice soon drewabreast of von Mitter. There was a gash on the latter's cheek, and theblood from it dripped on his cuirass. 

"Close for you, my friend, " he gasped; when he recognized the newarrival. "Have you--God! my leg that time, " with a groan. 

For the fire of the carriage had spoken again, and true. 

Maurice shut his teeth, drew his revolver, cocked it and applied thespurs. With a bound he shot past von Mitter, who was cursing deeply andtrying to reload. Maurice did not propose to waste powder on the driver, but was determined to bring down one of the carriage horses, whichwere marvelous brutes for speed. Scharfenstein kept popping away at thedriver, but without apparent result. Finally Maurice secured the desiredrange. He raised the revolver, rested the barrel between the left thumband forefinger and pressed the trigger. The nearest carriage horselurched to his knees, a bullet in his brain, dragging his mate with him. The race had come to an end. 

At once the two horsemen in front separated; one continued toward thegreat forest, while the other took to the hills. Scharfenstein startedin pursuit of the latter. As for the carriage, it came to an abruptstand. The driver made a flying leap toward the lake, but stumbled andfell, and before he could regain his feet Maurice was off his horse andon his quarry. He caught the fellow by the throat and pressed him to theearth, kneeling on his chest. 

"Hold him!" cried von Mitter, coming up with a limp, "hold him till Iknock in his head, damn him!"

"No, no!" said Maurice, "you can't get information out of a dead man. "

"It's all up with me, " groaned the Lieutenant. "I'll ask for mydischarge. I could hit nothing, my hand trembled. I was afraid ofshooting into the carriage. "

Maurice turned his attention to the man beneath him. "Now, you devil, "he cried, "a clean breast of it, or off the board you go. O!" suddenlypeering down. "By the Lord, so it is you--you--you!" savagely bumpingthe fellow's head against the earth. "Spy!"

"You are killing me!"

"Small matter. Who is this fellow?" asked Maurice. 

"Johann Kopf, a spy, a police rat, and God knows what else, " answeredvon Mitter, limping toward the carriage. "Curse the leg!" He forcedthe door and peered inside. "Fainted! I thought as much. " He lifted theinanimate bundle which lay huddled in between the seats and carried itto the side of the road, where he tenderly laid it. He rubbed the girl'swrists, unmindful of the blood which fell from his face and left darkstains on her dress. "Thank God, " heartily, "that her Royal Highness wassuffering from a headache. She would have died from fright. "

Maurice felt the straining cords in the prisoner's neck grow limp. Therascal had fainted. 

"Not her Highness?" Maurice asked, the weight of dread lifting from hisheart. 

"No. Her Royal Highness sent Camille, her maid of honor, veiled anddressed like herself, to play an innocent jest on her old nurse. Someone shall account for this; for they mistook Camille for her Highness. I'm going to wade out into the water, " von Mitter added, staggering tohis feet. 

"You'll never get off your boot, " said Maurice. 

"I'll cut it off, " was the reply, "I shall faint if I do not cool offthe leg. The ball is somewhere in the calf. " And he waded out into thewater until it reached above his knees. Thus he stood for a moment, thenreturned to the maid, who, on opening her eyes, screamed. "It is allover, Camille, " said the Lieutenant, throwing an arm about her. 

"Your face is bleeding!" she cried, and sank back with her head againsthis broad breast. 

As Maurice gazed at the pair he sighed. There were no obstacles here. 

Soon Scharfenstein came loping down the hill alone. 

"I killed his horse, " he said, in response to queries, "but he fledinto the woods where I could not follow. A bad night for us, Carl, a badnight, " swinging off his horse. "A boy would have done better work. Whomhave we here?"

"Kopf, " said Maurice, "and he has a ball somewhere inside, " holding up abloody hand. 

"Kopf?" Scharfenstein cocked his revolver. 

The maid of honor placed her hands over her ears and screamed again. Maxgazed at her, and, with a short, Homeric laugh, lowered the revolver. 

"Any time will do, " he said. "Ah, he opens his eyes. "

The prisoner's eyes rolled wildly about. That frowning face above him. .. Was it a vision? Who was it? What was he doing here?

"Who put you up to this?" demanded Maurice. 

"You are choking me!"

"Who, I say?"

"Beauvais. "

Scharfenstein and von Mitter looked at each other comprehensively. 

"Who is this Beauvais? Speak!"

"I am dying, Herr. .. Your knees--"

Maurice withdrew his knees. "Beauvais; who is he?"

"Prince. .. Walmoden, formerly of the emperor's staff. "

Johann's eyes closed again, and his head fell to one side. 

"He looks as if he were done for, " said Maurice, standing up. "Let usclear up the rubbish and hitch a horse to the carriage. The mate's allright. "

Von Mitter assisted the maid into the carriage and seated her. 

"Go and stay with her, " said Maurice, brusquely; "you're half fainting. "

"You are very handy, Carewe, " said von Mitter gratefully, and he climbedin beside the maid, who, her fright gone, gave way to womanly instincts. She took her kerchief and wiped the Lieutenant's cheek, pressing hishand in hers the while. 

Maurice and Scharfenstein worked away at the traces, and dragged thedead horse to the side of the road. Scharfenstein brought around vonMitter's horse, took oft the furnishings, and backed him into the pole. 

Meanwhile the man lying by the water's edge showed signs of returninglife. He turned his head cautiously. His enemies were a dozen yards awayfrom him. Slowly he rolled over on his stomach, thence to his knees. They were paying no attention to him. .. . 

"Ho, there! the prisoner!" cried von Mitter, tumbling out of thecarriage. He tried to stand up, but a numbness seized his legs, and hesank to a sitting posture. 

Maurice and Scharfenstein turned too late. Johann had mounted onScharfenstein's horse, and was flying away down the road. Maurice coollyleveled his revolver and sent two bullets after him. The second onecaused Johann to straighten stiffly, then to sink; but he hung on to thehorse. 

"Hurry!" cried Maurice; "I've hit him and we'll find him along the roadsomewhere. "

They lifted von Mitter into the carriage, wheeled it about, andScharfenstein mounted the box. Maurice sprang into his saddle, and theyclattered off toward the city. 

CHAPTER XX. THE LAST STAND OF A BAD SERVANT

The cuirassiers stationed in the guardroom of the royal palace walkedgently on the tiling, when occasion required them to walk, and when theyentered or left the room, they were particularly careful to avoidthe chink of the spur or the clank of the saber. Although the royalbedchamber was many doors removed, the Captain had issued a warningagainst any unnecessary noise. A loud laugh, or the falling of a sabercarelessly rested, drew upon the unlucky offender the scowling eyes ofthe commander, who reclined in front of the medieval fireplace, inwhich a solitary log burned, and brooded over past and present. The highrevels in the guardroom were no more, the cuirassiers were no longermade up of the young nobles of the kingdom; they were now merely watchdogs. 

Twenty years ago the commander had come from Dresden as an instructor inarms, and after the first year had watched over the royal household, inthe service of the late king and the king who lay dying. He had come ofgood family, but others had come oof better, and had carried of courthonors, though his post in early days had been envied by many. He wasabove all else a soldier, the embodiment of patience and integrity, andhe scorned to murmur because fortune had passed over his head. As hesucked at his pipe, he recalled the days of Albrecht and his operasingers, the court scandals, and his own constant employment asmessenger in the king's love intrigues. 

Albrecht had died a widower and childless, and with him had died theflower of court life. The courtiers and sycophants had flocked to thestandard of the duke, and had remained there, primarily because Leopoldof Osia promised a sedate and exemplary life. Sometimes the Captainshook his head, as if communing with some unpleasant thought. On eachside of him sat a soldier, also smoking and ruminating. 

At the mess table a dozen or so whiled away the time at cards. Thewavering lights of the candle and hearth cast warring shadows on thewall and floor, and the gun and saber racks twinkled. If the playersspoke, it was in tones inaudible to the Captain's ears. 

"Our bread and butter, " said the Captain softly, "are likely to takeunto themselves the proverbial wings and fly away. "

No one replied. The Captain was a man who frequently spoke his thoughtsaloud, and required no one to reply to his disjointed utterances. 

"A soldier of fortune, " he went on, "pins his faith and zeal tostandards which to-day rise and to-morrow fall. Unfortunately, he takesit at flood tide, which immediately begins to ebb. "

The men on either side of him nodded wisely. 

"The king can no longer speak. That is why the archbishop has dismissedthe cabinet. While he could speak, his Majesty refused to listen to thedownfall of his enemies. Why? Look to heaven; heaven only can answer. How many men of the native troops are quartered in these buildings? Notone--which is bad. Formerly they were in the majority. Extraordinary. His Majesty would have made friends with them, but the archbishop, anestimable man in his robes, practically ostracized them. Bad, very bad. Had we been comrades, there might be a different end. 

"Faugh! if one of us sticks his head into the city barracks a breathof ice is our reward. Kronau never attends the receptions. A littleflattery, which costs nothing, and they would have been willing to diefor his Majesty. Now--" He knocked his pipe on the firedog. "Now, they would not lift a finger. A soldier will forgive all things butpremeditated neglect. 

"As for me, when the time comes I shall return to Dresden and die of oldage. Maybe, though, I shan't. When his Majesty dies there is like to bea clash. The duchess is a clever woman, but she would make a balky wife;a capillary affection which runs in the family. Red hair in a manis useful; in a woman it is unmanageable. " He refilled his pipe andmotioned toward the tongs. The soldier nearest caught up a brand andheld it out. The Captain laid his pipe against it and drew. "It'sa dreary watch I have from ten till daylight, in his Majesty'santechamber, but he will trust no other man at that post. " And with thishe fell into silence. 

Some time passed. Twice the Captain pulled out his watch and looked atit. Shortly after nine o'clock the beat of hoofs came up the driveway, and the Captain turned his head toward the entrance and waited. A momentlater the door opened and three men stood framed in the doorway. Two ofthem--one in civilian dress--were endeavoring to hold up a third betweenthem. The central figure presented an alarming picture. His cuirass andwhite trousers were splashed with blood, and his head rolled from sideto side, almost insensibly. 

"A thousand devils!" exclaimed the Captain at the sight of thisunexpected tableau. He sprang up, toppling over his chair. "What's this?Von Mitter? Blood? Have those damned students--"

"A brush on the lake road, " interrupted Sharfenstein, breathlessly. "Help him over to a chair, Monsieur Carewe. That's it. "

"Have you a knife, Captain?" asked Maurice. 

The Captain whipped out his knife, locked it, and gave it to Maurice. "Riemer, " he called to one of the cuirassiers, who were rising from themess table, "bring out your box of instruments; and you, Scharfenstein, a basin of cold water. Quick!"

Maurice knelt and deftly cut away the Lieutenant's boot. A pool of bloodcollected on the floor. 

"God save us!" cried the Captain, "his boot is full of blood. " Heturned to Scharfenstein, who was approaching with the basin. "What hashappened, Max?"

Scharfenstein briefly explained. 

"And Kopf?"

"Got away, curse him!"

"And the others?" with a lowering brow. 

"They all got away, " adding an oath under his breath. Max set the basinon the floor. 

"Bad, very bad. Why didn't you shoot?"

"He was afraid of hitting Mademoiselle Bachelier, " Maurice interposed. 

Max threw him a grateful look. 

"Humph!" The Captain called his men around him. "Two of you--. But wait. Who's back of Kopf?"

"Our distinguished Colonel, " snapped Max, "who was this day relieved ofhis straps. A case of revenge, probably. "

"Beauvais! Ah, ah!" The Captain smiled grimly. He had always hatedBeauvais, who had, for no obvious reason, passed him and grasped thecoveted colonelcy, and because, curiously enough, the native troops hadmade an idol of him. "Beauvais? I am not surprised. An adventurer, withneither kith nor country. "

"He is Prince Walmoden, " said Maurice, "and for some reason not known, the emperor has promised to recall him. "

This information caused the Captain to step back, and he muttered thename several times. "Austria. .. . " A gloom settled on his face. "Nomatter. Prince or no prince, or had he one thousand emperors behind him, no matter. Four of you seek him and arrest him. If he offers resistance, knock him on the head, but arrest him. A traitor is without name, country or respect. His purpose. .. Never mind. 

"Four of you seek for Kopf. Look into Stuler's, in at the opera, andfollow Kopf's woman home. I'll take it upon myself to telegraph thefrontier to allow no one to cross on the pain of being shot. Pass theword to the officers in the stables. Hurry away before the archbishophears of the matter. Away with you, and quietly. And one of you seekthat blockhead of a coachman, who did not know enough to come back hereand inform us. Beauvais, make him a prisoner, you are not to knowwhy. As for Kopf, dead or alive--alive will be less convenient for allconcerned. Off with you!"

The guardroom was at once emptied, and the cuirassiers turned off towardthe stables, where the main body of the troops was stationed. 

Riemer, who was both surgeon and soldier, probed the wound in vonMiner's leg and extracted the bullet, which had lodged in the fleshypart of the calf. He applied cold water, lints and bandages. All thewhile von Mitter sat in the chair, his eyes shut and his lips closedtightly. 

"There!" said the surgeon, standing up, "that's better. The loss ofblood is the worst part of it. " Next he took a few stitches in the cuton the cheek and threw his cloak over the wounded man's knee. "He'll beall right in a day or so, though he'll limp. Carl?"

"O, I'm sound enough, " answered von Mitter, opening his eyes. "A littleweak in the knees, that's all. I shouldn't have given in, only Kopf gotaway when we had him fair and fast. We found his horse wandering aboutthe Frohngarten, but no sign of Johann. He's got it, though, square inthe back. "

"I'm sure of it, " said Maurice, who leaned over the back of thespeaker's chair. 

The Captain eyed him inquiringly. 

"Pardon me, " said Scharfenstein. "Captain, Monsieur Carewe, an Americantourist, formerly of the United States cavalry. And a pretty shot, too, by the book! It would have gone badly with us but for him. "

"My thanks, " said the Captain, with a jerky nod. "Max, come, give me thewhole story. "

And Scharfenstein dropped into a chair and recounted in picturesquediction the adventure; how they had remained by the royal carriage tillthe nurse, recovering from her faint, had rushed out and told them ofthe abduction; and the long race on the south shore. While he listenedthe Captain smoked thoughtfully; and when the story was done, he roseand wagged his head. 

"Call it revenge, " he said, "if it strikes you in that light. MonsieurCarewe, what is your opinion?"

"It occurs to me, " answered Maurice, rubbing the scratch the lateColonel's sword had left on his chin, "it occurs to me that the manplayed his hand a few days too late. "

"Which is to say?"

"Well, I do not call it revenge, " Maurice admitted, unwilling to ventureany theory. 

"No more do I;" and the Captain began drumming on the mantel. "What say, Max; how would the illustrious Colonel look with the shadow of a crownon his head? He comes from Austria, who, to my thinking, is cognizant ofall he does and has done. "

The answer was not spoken. The door, leading to the main palace throughthe kitchens, opened, and the Marshal, the princess, and the maid ofhonor came down the steps. The Captain, Max and the surgeon stood atsalute. Maurice, however, drew back into the shadows at the side ofthe grate. The old soldier gazed down at the pale face of the youngLieutenant, and smiled kindly. 

"Even the best of soldiers make mistakes, " he said; "even the best. No, "as von Mitter made an attempt to speak. "I've heard all about it, andfrom a most reliable source, " nodding toward the anxious maid ofhonor. "Colonel, " he addressed the Captain, whose eyes started at thisappellation, "Colonel, you will report to me in the morning to assumeyour new duties. You have been a faithful Captain and a good soldier. Iknow your value, your name and your antecedents, which till now was morethan I knew of your late predecessor. Von Mitter will take upon himselfyour duties as Captain of the household troop; and you, Scharfenstein, will hereafter take charge of her Royal Highness's carriage, and you maychoose whom you will as your comrade. "

"I have always tried to do my duty, " said von Mitter. He felt a smallhand secretly press his. 

"And you have always succeeded, Captain, " said a voice which madeMaurice's foolish heart leap. "See, I am the first to give you your newrank. How you must suffer!"

"God bless your Royal Highness!" murmured the fellow, at once rackedwith pain and happiness. "But I am not the one you must thank for thisnight's work. "

The Marshal peered at the silent figure beyond the fireplace. Mauricewas compelled to stand forth. "Ah!" said the Marshal. 

"Yes, " went on von Mitter, "but for him no one knows what the end mighthave been. And I, thinking him one of the abducting party coming up fromthe rear, shot at him. "

The princess took a step forward, anxiety widening her dark eyes; andthe swift glance added to the fever in the recipient's veins. .. . Howbeautiful she was, and how far away! He laid his hand on the top of vonMitter's chair. 

"Monsieur Carewe, " said the Marshal, "seems to have plenty of leisuretime on his hands--fortunately for us. You were not hit?"

"O, no, " said Maurice, blushing. He had discerned an undercurrent ofraillery in the Marshal's tones. "The ball came close to my ear, thatwas all. It is strange how that fellow got away. I am positive that Ihit him. "

"We shall find him, " said the Marshal, with a look at thenewly-appointed Colonel which said: "Your straps hang in the balance. "He rubbed his nose. "Well, is your Royal Highness satisfied that thereis no danger?"

"Yes, Marshal; but think, if he should have been killed! Ah, what doesit all mean? What had this man against me, who have always been kind tohim?"

"We shall, with your Highness's permission, " said the Marshal, "leaveall questions to the future. Let us return to the archbishop, whois doubtless awaiting the news. Take good care of yourself, Captain. To-morrow, Colonel; good evening to you, Monsieur Carewe;" and the terseold soldier proceeded to the door and held it open for the women. 

"Good night, Messieurs, " said her Highness. "I shall not forget. Thanksto you, Captain. " One more glance, and she was gone. But this glanceblossomed in one heart into a flower of hope. 

The Marshal, having closed the door behind the women, returned to thegroup before the fireplace. They watched him interestedly. 

"Colonel, " he said, "make no effort to seek Beauvais. As for Kopf, thatis different. But Beauvais--"

"To let him go?" exclaimed the Colonel in dismay. 

"Aye, to let him go. We do not seek bears with birdshot, and that is allwe have. He will leave the country. "

"And go to the duchy!"

"So much the better; when the time comes, our case against him willbe so much the stronger. Mind you, this is not from sentiment. I havenone, " glaring around to see if any dared refute this assertion. "It ispolicy, and Monseigneur concurs with me. "

"But I have sent men after him!" cried the Colonel, in keendisappointment. 

"Send men after them to rescind the order. "

"And if they should catch him?"

"Let him go; that is my order. The servant will be sufficient for ourneeds. Monsieur Carewe, I rely on your discretion;" and the Marshalpassed into the kitchens. 

The men looked at each other in silence. A moment later the Coloneldashed from the room, off to the stables. 

"Well, I'm off, " said Maurice. The desire to tell what he knew wasbeginning to master him. It was too late now, he saw that. Besides, theymight take it into their heads to detain him. He put on his hat. "Goodnight; and good luck to your leg, Captain. "

"Till to-morrow, " said von Mitter, who had taken a fancy to thesmooth-faced young American, who seemed at home in all places. 

"I am going away to-morrow, " said Maurice, pressing the Lieutenant'shand. "I shall return in a day or so. "

He led his horse to the hotel stables, lit a fresh cigar and promenadedthe terrace. "Some day, " he mused, "perhaps I'll be able to do somethingfor myself. To-morrow we'll take a look at Fitzgerald's affairs, likethe good fairy we are. If the Colonel is there, so much the worse forone or the other of us. " He laughed contentedly. "Beauvais took mywarning and lit out, or his henchman would never have made a botch ofthe abduction. It is my opinion that Madame wanted a hostage, for itis impossible to conceive that the man made the attempt on his ownresponsibility. I shall return to the duchy in a semi-official characteras an envoy extraordinary to look into the whereabouts of one LordFitzgerald. Devil take me, but I did make a mess of it when I slappedhim on the shoulder that night. " The princess had not addressed a wordto him. Why?

When the princess and her maid of honor had passed through the kitchensinto the princess's boudoir, the maid suddenly caught her mistress'shand and imprinted a hasty kiss on it, to the latter's surprise andagitation. There was something in that kiss which came nearer to sincereaffection than Mademoiselle Bachelier had ever shown before. 

"Camille?"

"God bless your Highness!" whispered the girl, again pressing the coldhand to her lips. What had given rise to this new-born affection sheherself could not say, but a sudden wave of pity rushed into herheart. Perhaps it was because she loved and was loved that caused thisexpansion of heart toward her mistress, who was likely never to love orbeget love, who stood so lonely. Tears came into her eyes. 

"You are hysterical!" said the princess. 

"No; it is because--because--" She stopped and a blush suffused her faceand temples. 

The princess took the face between her hands and gazed long andearnestly into it. "Have you discovered a belated pity in your heartfor me? Or is it because you thought him wounded unto death, and he wasnot?"

"It is both!" weeping. 

The princess put her arms around the maid. "And you weep for happiness?Let us weep together, then; only--I can not weep for happiness. "

To return to the flight of Kopf. As he dashed down the road he heard tworeports. At the second he experienced a terrible burning blow underthe right shoulder-blade, and immediately his arm became paralyzed. He coughed. With a supreme effort he managed to recover his balance. Already his collar-bone had been cracked by a bullet either from vonMitter or from Scharfenstein. 

"God's curse on them all!" he sobbed, pushing his knees into his horse;"God's curse!" He bit his lips; and when he drew his breath the painwhich followed almost robbed him of his senses. Behind him the sound ofhoofs came no nearer; he had a chance. He could not look back to see ifhe gained, however, as his neck was stiffening. 

"Curse him and his damned gold! He never warned me as he said he would. "On he rode. The moon became obscured, and when it flashed again he couldsee it but indistinctly. .. . To reach the city, to reach Gertrude's, togive the horse a cut and send him adrift, this was his endeavor. Butwould he reach the city--alive? Was he dying? He could not see. .. Yetagain he shut his jaws and drew on his entire strength. He was keepingin the saddle by will power alone. If the horse faltered he was lost. ToGertrude; she could use them. And after all he loved her. If he died shewould be provided for. 

The first of the city lamps. He sobbed. Into this street he turned, into that, expecting each moment to be challenged, for the white saddleblanket of the cuirassiers stood out conspicuously. At last he had buta corner to turn. He stopped, slid from the saddle and gave the animala cut across the face. The horse reared, then plunged forward at a wildgallop. Johann staggered along the street, fumbling in his pockets forhis keys. 

Gertrude of the opera company was usually in the ballet. To-night shehad left the stage after the first dance. She had complained of asevere headache, and as the manager knew her worth he had permittedher withdrawal from the corps. She lived off the Frohngarten, in anapartment on the second floor, over a cheap restaurant. She was bathingher temples in perfumed ammonia water, when she heard footsteps in thecorridor, and later the rasp of a key in the lock. As the door openedshe beheld a spectacle which caused her to scream. 

"Hush! Gertrude, I am dying. .. . Brandy! I must talk to you! Silence!"Johann tottered to a lounge and dropped on his side. 

The woman, still trembling with fright and terror, poured into her palmsome of the pungent liquid with which she had been bathing her temples, and held it under his nose. It revived him. And in a few brokensentences he made known to her what had happened. 

"Gertrude, I am lost!" He breathed with difficulty. "I have lived likea rascal, and I die like one. But I have always loved you; I have alwaysbeen true to you; I have never beaten nor robbed you. " His eyes closed. 

"O God, " she cried, "what shall I do? Johann, you must not die! Wewill leave the country together. Johann, you do not speak! Johann!"She kissed him, pressed him in her arms, regardless of the stains whichthese frantic fondlings gathered from his breast. "Johann!"

"Rich, " he said dreamily; "rich. .. And to die like a dog!"

She left him and rushed to the sideboard, poured out a tumbler ofbrandy, and returned to his side. She raised his head, but he swallowedwith effort. 

"In the lungs, " he said. "God! how it burns! Rich; we are rich, Gertrude; a hundred thousand crowns. .. . And I am dying!. .. What afailure! Curse them all; they never offered to lend a hand unless it ledtoward hell! Gertrude. .. I must tell you. Here; here, put your hand inthis pocket; yes. Draw them out. .. A hundred thousand crowns!"

The woman shuddered. Her hand and what it held were wet with blood. 

"Hide them!" And Johann fainted away for the second time. When he cameto his senses, several minutes had passed. Quickly, with what remainingstrength he had, he unfolded his plan. 

And her one idea was to save him. She drenched her handkerchief with theammonia, and bade him hold it to his nose, while she fetched a basin ofwater and a sponge. Tenderly she drew back his coat and washed the bloodfrom his throat and lips, and moistened his hair. 

"Listen!" he cried suddenly, rising on his elbow. "It is they! Theyhave found me! Quick! to the roof!" He struggled to his feet, with thatstrength which imparts itself to dying men, super-human while it lasts. He threw one arm around her neck. "Help me!"

And thus they gained the hall, mounted the flight to the roof, hegroaning and urging, she sobbing, hysterical, and frenzied. She climbedthe ladder with him, threw back the trap, and helped him on the roof. 

"Now leave me!" he said, kissing her hand. 

She gave him her lips, and went down to her rooms, and waited andwaited. This agony of suspense lasted a quarter of an hour, when againcame the clatter of hoofs. Would this, too, prove a false alarm? Sheheld her hand to her ear. If he were dying. .. They had stopped; theywere mounting the stairs; O God, they were beating on the door!

"Open!" cried a voice without; "open in the king's name!"

She gasped, but words would not come. She clenched her hands until thenails sank into the flesh. 

"Open, Madame, or down comes the door. "

The actress in her came to the rescue. The calm of despair tookpossession of her. 

"In a moment, Messieurs, " she said. Her voice was without agitation. Sheopened the door and the cuirassiers pushed past her. "In heaven's name, Messieurs, what does this mean?"

"We want Johann Kopf, " was the answer, "and we have it from goodauthority that he is here. Do not interfere with us; you are in no wiseconnected with the affair. "

"He is not here, " she replied. She wondered at herself, her tones wereso even, her mind was so clear. 

One of the cuirassiers caught up her gown. "What's this, Madame?" hedemanded, pointing to the dark wet stains; "and this?" to her hands, "and this?" to the spots on the carpet, the basin and the sponge. "Tothe roof, men; he has gone by the roof! Up with you!"

The ballet dancer held forth her hands in supplication; life forsook herlimbs; she sank. 

The cuirassiers rushed to the roof. .. . When they came down it was slowlyand carefully. What they had found on the roof was of no use to them. They laid the inanimate thing on the lounge, and frowned. One of thecuirassiers lifted the ballet dancer and carried her into her bed-room, and laid her on the bed. He had not the heart to revive her. Deathsoftens all angers; even an enemy is no longer such when dead. AndJohann Kopf was dead. 

CHAPTER XXI. A COURT FETE AT THE RED CHATEAU

At eight o'clock of the following evening, that is to say, thenineteenth of September, Maurice mounted the Thalian pass and left thekingdom in the valley behind him. He was weary, dusty, lame and out ofhumor; besides, he had a new weight on his conscience. The night beforehe had taken the life of a man. True, this had happened before, butalways in warfare. He had killed in a moment of rage and chagrin apoor devil who was at most only a puppet. There was small credit in theperformance. However, the rascal would have suffered death in any event, his act being one of high treason. 

In the long ride he had made up his mind to lock away forever the sillydream, the tender, futile, silly dream. All men die with secrets lockedin their hearts; thus he, too, would die. His fancy leaped across thechasm of intervening years to the day of his death, and the thoughtwas a happy one! He smiled sadly, as young men smile when they pitythemselves. He knew that he would never get over it--in a day. Butto-morrow, or to-morrow's to-morrow. . 

He took the pass's decline; the duchy spread away toward the south. Aquarter of a mile below him he saw the barrack and the customs officewhich belonged to Madame the duchess. The corporal inspected him andhis papers, spoke lowly to the customs inspector, who returned to hisoffice. 

"It is all right, Monsieur Carewe, " said the corporal; "I ought torecognize the horse a mile away. You will arrive just in time. "

"Just in time for what?"

"Ah, true. Her Highness gives a grand ball at the chateau to-night. Thecourt has arrived from Brunnstadt. Some will reside at the chateau, someat General Duckwitz's, others at the Countess Herzberg's. "

"Has the duchess arrived at last, then?" was the cynical inquiry. 

"She will arrive this evening, " answered the corporal, grinning. "Apleasant journey to you. "

Maurice proceeded. "And that blockhead of an Englishman has not tumbledyet! The court here? A grand ball? What else can it mean but that Madameis celebrating a victory to come? If the archbishop has those consols, she will wage war; and this is the prelude. " He jogged along. He hadaccomplished a third of the remaining distance, when he was challenged. The sentry came forward and scrutinized the rider. 

"O, it is Monsieur Carewe!" he cried in delighted tones. He touched hiscap and fell back into the shadows. 

A mile farther, and the great chateau, scintillating with lights, loomedup against the yellow sky. He felt a thrill of excitement. Doubtlessthere would be some bright passages before the night drew to a close. Hewould make furious love to the pretty countess; it would be something inthe way of relaxation. How would they greet him? What would be Madame'sfuture plans in regard to Fitzgerald? How would she get him out of theway, now that he had served her purpose? He laughed. 

"The future promises much, " he said, half aloud. "I am really glad thatI came back. "

"Halt!"

Maurice drew up. A sentry stepped out into the road. 

"O, it is Monsieur Carewe!" he cried. With a short laugh he disappeared. 

"Hang me, " grumbled Maurice as he went on, "these fellows haveremarkable memories. I can't recollect any of them. " He was mystified. 

Shortly he came upon the patrol. The leader ordered him to dismount, anorder be obeyed willingly, for he was longing to stand again. He shookhis legs, while the leader struck a match. 

"Why, it is Monsieur Carewe!" he cried. "Good! We are coming out to meetyou. This is a pleasure indeed. "

Maurice gazed keenly into the speaker's face, and to his surprise beheldthe baron whose arm he had broken a fortnight since. He climbed on hishorse again. 

"I am glad you deem it a pleasure, baron, " he said dryly. "From what youimply, I should judge that you were expecting me. "

"Nothing less! Your departure from Bleiberg was known to us as early astwo o'clock this after-noon, " answered the baron. "Permit us to escortyou to the chateau before the ladies see you. 'Tis a gala night; we areall in our best bib and tucker, as the English say. We believed at onetime that you were not going to honor us with a second visit. Nowto dress, both of us; at ten Madame the duchess arrives with GeneralDuckwitz and Colonel Mollendorf, who is no relation to the late ministerof police in Bleiberg. "

Underneath all this Maurice discerned a shade of mockery, and itdisturbed him. 

"First, I should like to know--" he began. 

"Later, later!" cried the baron. "The gates are but a dozen rods away. To your room first; the rest will follow. "

"The only clothes I have with me are on my back, " said Maurice. 

"We shall arrange that. Your guard-hussar uniform has been reserved foryou, at the suggestion of the Colonel. "

And Maurice grew more and more disturbed. 

"Were they courteous to you on the road?"

"Yes. But--"

"Patience! Here we are at the rear gates. "

Maurice found it impossible to draw back; three troopers blocked therear, the baron and another rode at his sides, and four more were inadvance. The rear gates swung open, and the little troop passed intothe chateau confines. Maurice snatched a glimpse of the front lawnsand terraces. The trees and walls were hung with Chinese lanterns;gay uniforms and shimmering gowns flitted across his vision. Somewherewithin the chateau an orchestra was playing the overture from "Lindadi Chamounix. " Indeed, with all these brave officers, old men in blackbedecked with ribbons, handsome women in a brilliant sparkle of jewels, it had the semblance of a gay court. It was altogether a different scenefrom that which was called the court of Bleiberg. There was no restrainthere; all was laughter, music, dancing, and wines. The women were young, the men were young; old age stood at one side and looked on. And thecharming Voiture-verse of a countess, Maurice was determined to seekher first of all. He vaguely wondered how Fitzgerald would carry himselfthroughout the ordeal. 

The troopers dismounted in the courtyard. 

"I'm a trifle too stiff to dance, " Maurice innocently acknowledged. 

The baron laughed. "You will have to take luck with me in thestable-barrack; the chateau is filled. The armory has been turned into aballroom, and the guard out of it. "

"Lead on!" said Maurice. 

At the entrance to the guardroom, which occupied the left wing of thestables, stood a Lieutenant of the hussars. 

"This is Monsieur Carewe, " said the baron, "who will occupy a corner inthe guardroom. "

"Ah! Monsieur Carewe, " waving his hand cavalierly; "happy to see youagain. "

Maurice was growing weary of his name. 

"Enter, " said the baron, opening the door. 

Maurice entered, but not without suspicion. However, he was in a hurryto mingle with the gay assembly in the chateau. But that body was doomedto proceed without the honor or the knowledge of his distinguishedpresence. Several troopers were lounging about. At the sight of thebaron they rose. 

"Messieurs, " he said, "this is Monsieur Carewe, who was expected. "

"Glad to see you!" they sang out in chorus. They bowed ironically. 

Maurice gazed toward the door. As he did so four pairs of arms envelopedhim, and before he could offer the slightest resistance, he was boundhand and foot, a scarf was tied over his mouth, and he was pushed mostdisrespectfully into a chair. The baron's mouth was twisted out ofshape, and the troopers were smiling. 

"My faith! but this is the drollest affair I ever was in;" and the baronsat on the edge of the table and held his sides. "Monsieur Carewe! Ha!ha! You are a little too stiff to dance, eh? Shall I tender your excusesto the ladies? Ass! did you dream for a moment that such canaille asyou, might show your countenance to any save the scullery maids? Toostiff to dance! Ye gods, but that was rich! And you had the audacityto return here! I must go; the thing is killing me. " He slipped off thetable, red in the face and choking. "The telegraph has its uses; it cameahead of you. We trembled for fear you would not come! Men, guard himas your lives, while I report to Madame, I dare say she will make itdroller in the telling. "

He stepped to the door, turned, looking into the prisoner's glaringeyes; he doubled up again. "We are quits; I forgive you the brokenarm; this laugh will repay me. How Madame the countess will laugh! AndDuckwitz--the General will die of apoplexy! O, but you are a sorry ass;and how neatly we have clipped your ears!" And into the corridor hewent, still laughing, heartily and joyously, as if what had taken placewas one of the finest jests in the world. 

Maurice, white and furious, was positive that he never would laughagain. And the most painful thought was that his honesty had brought himto this pass--or, was it his curiosity?

* * * * *

Fitzgerald stood alone in the library. The music of a Strauss waltz cameindistinctly to him. He was troubled, and the speech of it lay in hiseyes. From time to time he drummed on the window sill, and followed withhis gaze the shadowy forms on the lawns. He was not a part of this fairyscene. He was out of place. So many young and beautiful women eyeing himcuriously confused him. In every glance he innocently read his disgrace. 

At Madame's request he had dressed himself in the uniform of aLieutenant-Colonel, which showed how deeply he was in the toils. Though it emphasized the elegant proportions of his figure, it satuncomfortably upon him. His vanity was not equal to his sense of guilt. The uniform was a livery of dishonor. He could not distort it into avirtue, try as he would. He lacked that cunning artifice which a man ofthe world possesses, that of winning over to the right a misdeed. 

And Carewe, on whose honesty he would have staked his life, Carewe hadbetrayed him. Why, he could not conceive. He saw how frail his houseof love was. A breath and it was gone. What he had until to-day deemedspecial favors were favors common to all these military dandies. They, too, could kiss Madame's hand, and he could do no more. And yet she heldhim. Did she love him? He could not tell. All he knew was that it wasimpossible not to love her. And to-night he witnessed the culminationof the woman beautiful, and it dazzled him, filled him with fears andoppressions. .. . To bind her hand and foot, to carry her by force to thealtar, if need; to call her his in spite of all. 

If she were playing with him, making a ball of his heart and her fancya cup, she knew not of the slumbering lion within. He himself was butdimly conscious of it. Princess? That did not matter. Since that morningthe veil had fallen from his eyes, but he had said nothing; he waswaiting for her to speak. Would she laugh at him? No, no! The knowledgethat had come to him had transformed wax into iron. Princess? She wasthe woman who had promised to be his wife. 

Only two candles burned on the mantel-piece. The library was a roomapart from the festivities. A soft, rose-colored darkness pervaded theroom. Presently a darker shadow tiptoed over the threshold. He turned, and the shadow approached. Madame's gray eyes, full of lambent fires, looked into his own. 

"I was seeking you, " she said. The jewels in her hair threw a kind ofhalo above her head. 

"Have I the happiness to be necessary to you?" he asked. 

"You have not been enjoying yourself. "

"No, Madame; my conscience is, unhappily, too green. " He turned to thewindow again for fear he would lose control of himself. 

"I have a confession to make to you, " she said humbly. How broad hisshoulders were, was her thought. 

"It can not concern me, " he replied. 

"How?"

"There is only one confession which I care to hear. You made it once, though you are not willing to repeat it. But I have your word, Sylvia;I am content. Not all the world could make me believe that you wouldwillingly retract that word. "

Her name, for the first time coming from his lips, caused her to start. She sent him a penetrating glance, but it broke on a face immobile asmarble. 

"I do not recollect granting you permission to use my given name, " shesaid. 

"O, that was before the world. But alone, alone as we are, you and I, it is different. " The smile which accompanied these words was franknessitself, but it did not deceive Madame, who read his eyes too well. "Ali, but the crumbs you give this love of mine are so few!" "You are the onlyman in the world permitted to avow love to me. You have kissed my hand. "

"A privilege which seems extended to all. "

Madame colored, but there was not light enough for him to perceive it. 

"The hand you kissed is the hand of the woman; others kiss it to payhomage. Monsieur, forgive me for having deceived you, you were so easyto deceive. " His eyes met hers steadily. 

"I am not Madame simply. I am Stephonia Sylvia Auersperg; the name Iassumed was my mother's. " His lack of surprise alarmed her. 

"I am well aware of that, " he said. "You are the duchess. "

Something in his tone warned her of a crisis, and she put forth hercunning to avert it. "And, you--you will not love me less?" her voicevibrant as the string of a viol. "I am a princess, but yet a woman. Inme there are two, the woman and the princess. The princess is proud andambitious; to gain her ends she stops at nothing. As a princess she maystoop to trickery and deceit, and step back untouched. But the woman-ah, well; for this fortnight I have been most of all the woman. "

"And all this to me-is a preamble to my dismissal, since my promiseremains unfulfilled? Madame, do not think that because fate has willedthat my promise should become void, that my conscience acquits me ofdishonor. For love of you I have thrown honor to the winds. But do Iregret it? No. For I am mad, and being mad, I am not capable of reason. I have broken all those ties which bind a man's respect to himself. I have burned all bridges, but I laugh at that. It is only with theknowledge that your love is mine that I can hold high my head. 

"As the princess in you is proud, so is the man in me. A princess? Thatis nothing; I love you. Were you the empress of all the Russias, themost unapproachable woman in the world, I should not hesitate to professmy love, to find some means of declaring it to you. I love you. To whatfurther depths can I fall to prove it?" Again he sought the window, andleaned heavily on the sill. He waited, as a man waits for an expectedblow. 

As she listened a delicious sensation swept through her heart, asensation elusive and intangible. She surrendered without question. Atthis moment the Eve in her evaded all questions. Here was a man. Themood which seized her was as novel as this love which asked nothing butlove, and the willingness to pay any price; and the desire to test bothmood and love to their full strength was irresistible. She was loved forherself alone; hitherto men had loved the woman less and the princessmore. To surrender to both mood and love, if only for an hour or a day, to see to what length this man would go at a sign from her. 

He was almost her equal in birth; his house was nearly if not quite asold and honored as her own; in his world he stood as high as she stoodin hers. She had never committed an indiscretion; passion had neverswayed her; until now she had lived by calculation. As she looked athim, she knew that in all her wide demesne no soldier could stand beforehim and look straight into his eyes. So deep and honest a book it was, so easily readable, that she must turn to its final pages. Love him? No. Be his wife? No. She recognized that it was the feline instinct to playwhich dominated her. Consequences? Therein lay the charm of it. 

"Patience, Monsieur, " she said. "Did I promise to be your wife? DidI say that I loved you? _Eh, bien_, the woman, not the princess, madethose vows. I am mistress not only of my duchy, but of my heart. " Sheceased and regarded him with watchful eyes. He did not turn. "Look atme, John!" The voice was of such winning sweetness that St. Anthonyhimself, had he heard it, must have turned. "Look at me and see if I ammore a princess than a woman. "

He wheeled swiftly. She was leaning toward him, her face was upturned. No jewel in her hair was half so lustrous as her eyes. From the threadedruddy ore of her hair rose a perfume like the fabulous myrrhs ofOlympus. Her lips were a cup of wine, and her eyes bade him drink, and the taste of that wine haunted him as long as he lived. He made asthough to drain the cup, but Madame pushed down his arms, uttered a low, puzzled laugh, and vanished from the room. He was lost! He knew it; yethe did not care. He threw out his arms, dropped them, and settled hisshoulders. A smile, a warm, contented smile, came into his face anddwelt there. For another such kiss he would have bartered eternity. 

And Madame? Who can say?

CHAPTER XXII. IN WHICH MAURICE RECURS TO OFFENBACH

Midnight; the music had ceased, and the yellow and scarlet lanterns hadbeen plucked from the autumnal hangings. The laughing, smiling, dancingwomen, like so many Cinderellas, had disappeared, and with them thesparkle of jewels; and the gallant officers had ridden away to thejingle of bit and spur. Throughout the courtly revel all faces hadrevealed, besides the happiness and lightness of spirit, a suppressedeagerness for something yet to come, an event surpassing any they hadyet known. 

Promptly at midnight Madame herself had dropped the curtains on the gayscene because she had urgent need of all her military household at dawn, when a picture, far different from that which had just been painted, wasto be limned on the broad canvas of her dreams. Darkness and quiet hadfallen on the castle, and the gray moon film lay on terrace and turretand tile. 

In the guardroom, Maurice, his hands and feet still in pressing cords, dozed in his chair. He had ceased to combat drowsiness. He was worn outwith his long ride, together with the chase of the night before; andsince a trooper had relieved his mouth of the scarf so that he couldbreathe, he cared not what the future held, if only he might sleep. It took him a long time to arrive at the angle of comfort; thisaccomplished, he drifted into smooth waters. The troopers whoconstituted his guard played cards at a long table, in the center ofwhich were stuck half a dozen bayonets, which served as candlesticks. They laughed loudly, thumped the board, and sometimes sang. No onebothered himself about the prisoner, who might have slept till the crackof doom, as far as they were concerned. 

Shortly before the new hour struck, the door opened and shut. A troopershook the sleeper by the sleeve. Maurice awoke with a start and gazedabout, blinking his eyes. Before him he discovered Madame the duchess, Fitzgerald and Mollendorf, behind whom stood the Voiture-verse of acountess. The languor forsook him and he pulled himself together andsat as upright as his bonds would permit him. Something interesting wasabout to take place. 

Madame made a gesture which the troopers comprehended, and theydeparted. Fitzgerald, with gloomy eyes, folded his arms across hisbreast, and with one hand curled and uncurled the drooping ends of hismustache; the Colonel frowned and rubbed the gray bristles on his upperlip; the countess twisted and untwisted her handkerchief; Madame aloneevinced no agitation, unless the perpendicular line above her nose couldhave been a sign of such. This lengthened and deepened as her glance metthe prisoner's. 

He eyed them all with an indifference which was tinctured with contemptand amusement. 

"Well, Monsieur Carewe, " said Madame, coldly, "what have you to say?"

"A number of things, Madame, " he answered, in a tone which bordered theinsolent; "only they would not be quite proper for you to hear. "

The Colonel's hand slid from his lip over his mouth; he shuffled hisfeet and stared at the bayonets and the grease spots on the table. 

"Carewe, " said Fitzgerald, endeavoring to speak calmly, "you have brokenyour word to me as a gentleman and you have lied to me. "

The reply was an expressive monosyllable, "O!"

"Do you deny it?" demanded the Englishman. 

"Deny what?" asked Maurice. 

"The archbishop, " said Madame, "assumed the aggressive last night. To beaggressive one must possess strength. Monsieur, how much did he pay forthose consols? Come, tell me; was he liberal? It is evident that you arenot a man of business. I should have been willing to pay as much asa hundred thousand crowns. Come; acknowledge that you have made a badstroke. " She bent her head to one side, and a derisive smile lifted thecorners of her lips. 

A dull red flooded the prisoner's cheeks. "I do not understand you. "

"You lie!" Fitzgerald stepped closer and his hands closed menacingly. 

"Thank you, " said Maurice, "thank you. But why not complete themelodrama by striking, since you have doubled your fists?"

Fitzgerald glared at him. 

"Monsieur, " interposed the countess, "do not forget that you are agentleman; Monsieur Carewe's hands are tied. "

"Unfortunately, " observed Maurice. 

Madame looked curiously at the countess, while Fitzgerald drew back tothe table and rested on it. 

"I can not comprehend how you dared return, " Madame resumed. "One whowatches over my affairs has informed me of your dishonorable act. "

"What do you call a dishonorable act?" Maurice inquired quietly. 

"One who breaks his sacred promise!" quickly. 

The prisoner laughed maliciously. Madame had answered the question as hehoped she would. "Chickens come home to roost. What do you say to that, my lord?" to the Englishman. 

This time it was not the prisoner's cheeks which reddened. Even Madamewas forced to look away, for if this reply touched the Englishman itcertainly touched her as deeply. Incidentally, she was asking herselfwhy she had permitted the Englishman to possess her lips, hers, which noman save her father had ever possessed before. A kiss, that was all ithad been, yet the memory of it was persistent, annoying, embarrassing. In the spirit of play--a spirit whose origin mystified her--she hadgiven the man something which she never could regain, a particle of herpride. 

Besides, this was not all; she had in that moment given up her right tolaugh at him when the time came; now she would not be able to laugh. Sheregretted the folly, and bit her lip at the thought of it. Consequencesshe had laughed at; now their possibilities disturbed her. She hadbeen guilty of an indiscretion. The fact that the Englishman had ruinedhimself at her beck did not enter her mind. The hour for that had notyet arrived. 

Seeing that his neat barb had left them all without answer, Mauricesaid: "Doubtless the informant who watches over your interests andvarious other interests of which you have no inkling, was the lateColonel Beauvais? For my part, I wish it was the late Beauvais in thesense in which we refer to the departed ones. But let us give himhis true name--Prince Konrad, the last of the Walmodens, a cashieredgamester. "

Only Fitzgerald showed any surprise. Maurice once saw that the otherswere in the secret. They knew the Colonel. Did they know why he wasin Bleiberg? Let them find it out for themselves. He would not lift afinger to aid them. He leaned back and yawned. 

"Pardon me, " he said, with mock politeness, "but my hands are tied, andthe truth is, I am sleepy. "

"Count, " said Madame, "release him. He will be too well guarded to fearhis escaping. "

The Colonel performed this service with alacrity. He honestly admiredthe young fellow who so seldom lost his temper. Besides, he had asneaking idea that the lad was being unjustly accused. 

Maurice got up and stretched himself. He rubbed his wrists, then satdown and waited for the comedy to proceed. 

"So you confess, " said Madame, "that you sold the consols to thearchbishop?"

"I, confess?" Maurice screwed up his lips and began to whistle softly:

"Voici le sabre de mon Pere. "

"You deny, then?" Madame was fast losing patience, a grave mistake whenone is dealing with a banterer. 

Maurice changed the tune:

"J'aime les militaires, Leur uniforme coquet, Leur moustache et leurplumet--"

"Answer!" with a stamp of the foot. 

"Je sais ce que je voudrais, Je voudrais etre cantiniere!". .. 

"Monsieur, " said the pretty countess, after a furtive glance at Madame'sstormy eyes, "do you deny?"

The whistle ceased. "Madame, to you I shall say that I neither deny noraffirm. The affair is altogether too ridiculous to treat seriously. Ihave nothing to say. " The whistle picked up the thread again. 

Doubt began to stir in the eyes of the Englishman. He looked at Madamewith a kind of indecision, to find that she was glancing covertly athim. His gaze finally rested on Maurice, who had crossed his legs andwas keeping time to the music with his foot. Indeed, these were not theviolent protestations of innocence he had looked for. This demeanor wasnot at all in accord with his expectations. Now that he had possessedMadame's lips (though she might never possess the consols), Maurice didnot appear so guilty. 

"Carewe, " he said, "you have deceived me from the start. "

"Ah! c'est un fameux regiment, Le regiment de la Grande Duchesse!"

"You knew that Madame was her Highness, " went on the Englishman, "andyet you kept that a secret from me. Can you blame me if I doubt you inother respects?"

"Sonnez donc la trompette, Et battez les tambours!"

And the warbler nodded significantly at Madame, whose frown grew stilldarker. 

"Eh! Monsieur, " cried the Colonel, with a protesting hand, "you are outof tune!"

"I should like to know why you returned here, " said Madame. "Either youhave some plan, or your audacity has no bounds. "

The whistle stopped again. "Madame, for once we agree. I, too, shouldlike to know why I returned here. "

"Carewe, " said Fitzgerald, "if you will give me your word--"

"Do not waste your breath, Monsieur, " interrupted Madame. 

"Will you give me your word?" persisted Fitzgerald, refusing to see thewarning in Madame's eyes. 

"I will give you nothing, my lord; nothing. I have said that I willanswer neither one way nor the other. The accusation is too absurd. Now, Madame, what is your pleasure in regard to my disposition?"

"You are to be locked up, Monsieur, " tartly. "You are too inquisitive toremain at large. "

"My confinement will be of short duration, " confidently. 

"It rests with my pleasure alone. "

"Pardon me if I contradict your Highness. I returned here incidentallyas a representative of the British ambassador in Vienna; I volunteeredthis office at the request of my own minister. "

A shade of consternation came into the faces of his audience. 

"If nothing is heard of me within two days, an investigation will ensue. It is very droll, but I am here to inquire into the whereabouts of oneLord Fitzgerald, who has disappeared. Telegrams to the four ends ofthe world have brought no news of his present residence. The archbishopinstituted the latter inquiries, because it was urgent and necessary heshould know. "

Fitzgerald became enveloped in gloom. 

"And your credentials, Monsieur?" said the duchess. "You have them, Ipresume?"

"I came as a private gentleman; a telegram to my minister in Vienna willbring indorsement. "

"Ah! Then you shall be locked up. I can not accord you recognition;without the essential representations, I see nothing in you butan impertinent meddler. To-morrow evening you shall be conveyed toBrunnstadt, where you will reside for some time, I can assure you. Perhaps on your head will rest the blood of many gallant gentlemen; forwithin another twenty-four hours I shall declare war against Leopold. This will be the consequence of your disloyalty to your word. " And shemoved toward the door, the others imitating her. Fitzgerald, more thanany one else, desired to get away. 

And one by one they vanished. Once the countess turned and threwMaurice a glance which mystified him; it was half curtained with tears. Presently he was alone. His eye grasped every object. There was not aweapon in sight; only the bayonets on the table, and he could scarcelyhope to escape by use of one of these. A carafe of water stood on thetable. He went to it and half emptied it. His back was toward the door. Suddenly it opened. He wheeled, expecting to see the troopers. Hissurprise was great. Beauvais was leaning against the door, a halfhumorous smile on his lips. The tableau lasted several minutes. 

"Well, " said Beauvais, "you do not seem very glad to see me. "

Maurice remained silent, and continued to gaze at his enemy over thetops of the upturned bayonets. 

"You are, as I said before, a very young man. "

"I killed a puppet of yours last night, " replied Maurice, with apeculiar grimness. 

"Eh? So it was you? However, Kopf knew too much; he is dead, thanks toyour service. After all, it was a stroke of war; the princess, whoselittle rose you have, was to have been a hostage. "

"If she had refused to be a wife, " Maurice replied. 

Beauvais curled his mustache. 

"I know a good deal more than Kopf. "

"You do, certainly; but you are at a convenient nearness. What you knowwill be of no use to you. Let us sit down. "

"I prefer to stand. The honor you do me is too delicate. "

"O, you may have no fear. "

"I have none--so long as my back isn't turned toward you. "

Beauvais passed over this. "You are a very good blade; you handle asword well. That is a compliment, considering that I am held as thefirst blade in the kingdom. It was only to-day I learned that formerlyyou had been a cavalryman in America. You have the making of a soldier. "

Maurice bowed, his hand resting near one of the bayonets. 

"You are also a soldier of fortune-like myself. You made a good strokewith the archbishop. You hoodwinked us all. "

Maurice did not reply. 

"Very well; we shall not dwell on it. You are discreet. "

Maurice saw that Beauvais was speaking in good faith. 

"You have something to say; come to it at once, for it is trying towatch you so closely. "

"I will give you--" He hesitated and scratched his chin. "I will give youten thousand crowns as the price of your silence in regard to the SouthAmerican affair. "

A sardonic laugh greeted this proposal. "I did not know that you were socheap. But it is too late. "

"Too late?"

"Doubtless, since by this time the authorities are in possession of theinteresting facts. "

"I beg to differ from you. "

"Do as you please, " said Maurice, triumphantly. "I sent an account ofyour former exploits both to my own government and to the one which youso treacherously betrayed. One or the other will not fail to reach. "

"I am perfectly well aware of that, " Beauvais smiled. He reached intoa pocket, and for a moment Maurice expected to see a pistol come forth. But he was needlessly alarmed. Beauvais extracted two envelopes from thepocket and sailed them through the intervening space. They fell onthe table. "Put not your trust in hotel clerks, " was the sententiousobservation. "At least, till you have discovered that no one elseemploys them. I am well served. The clerk was told to intercept youroutgoing post; and there is the evidence. Ten thousand crowns and a safeconduct. "

Maurice picked up the letters mechanically. They were his; the stampswere not canceled, but the flaps were slit. He turned them this way andthat, bewildered. He was convinced that he could in no way cope withthis man of curious industries, this man who seemed to have a key forevery lock, and whom nothing escaped. And the wise old Marshal hadpermitted him to leave the kingdom without let or hindrance. Perhaps theMarshal understood that Beauvais was a sort of powder train, and thatthe farther he was away from the mine the better for all concerned. 

"You are a great rascal, " Maurice said finally. 

"We will waive that point. The matter at present is, how much will ittake to buy your silence for the future?"

"And I am sorry I did not kill you when I had the chance, " continuedMaurice, as if following a train of thought. 

"We never realize how great the opportunity is till it has passed beyondour reach. Well, how much?"

"I am not in need of money. "

"To be sure; I forgot. But the archbishop could not have given you acompetence for life. "

"I choked a few facts out of Kopf, " said Maurice. "You will wear nocrown--that is, earthly. "

"And your heavenly one is near at hand, " rejoined Beauvais. 

Maurice absently fingered a bayonet. 

"You refuse this conciliation on my part?" asked Beauvais. 

"Positively. "

"Well, then, if anything happens to you, you will have only yourself toblame. I will leave you to digest that suggestion. Your life hangs inthe balance. I will give you till to-morrow morning to make up yourmind. "

"Go to the devil!"

"In that, I shall offer you the precedence. " And Beauvais backed out;backed out because Maurice had wrenched loose one of the bayonets. 

Maurice flung the bayonet across the room, went back to his chair, andtore his ill-fated letters into ribbons. When this was done he staredmoodily at the impromptu candlesticks, and tried to conceive the mannerin which Beauvais's threat would materialize. 

When the troops returned to their watch, they found the prisoner in arecumbent position, staring at the cracks in the floor, oblivious toall else save his thoughts, which were by no means charitable or humane. They resumed their game of cards. At length Maurice fell into a lightslumber. The next time he opened his eyes it was because of a peculiarjar, which continued; a familiar, monotonous jar, such as the tread offeet on the earth creates. Tramp, tramp, tramp; it was a large bodyof men on the march. Soon this was followed by a lighter andnoisier sound--cavalry. Finally, there came the rumbling of heavymetal--artillery. More than an hour passed before these varying soundsgrew indistinct. 

Maurice was now fully awake. An army had passed the Red Chateau. 

CHAPTER XXIII. A GAME OF POKER AND THE STAKES

The next morning Beauvais came for his answer. It was not the answer hehad expected. 

"So be it, " he replied. "Your government had better appoint yoursuccessor at once. Good morning. "

"You will die suddenly some day, " said Maurice. 

Beauvais shrugged, and departed. 

It was a dreary long day for the prisoner, who saw no one but hisjailers. He wondered what time they would start for Brunnstadt. He hadnever seen Brunnstadt. He hoped the city would interest him. Was he tobe disposed of on the road? No, that would scarcely be; there were toomany witnesses. In the city prison, then; that was possible. The outlookwas not rose-colored. He set to work to challenge each of his jailers, but this did not serve. At five o'clock the bluff old Colonel Mollendorfcame in. He dismissed the troopers, who were glad enough to be relieved. 

"I'll be responsible for the prisoner from now on, " he said. As soonas he and Maurice were alone he propped his chin and contemplated thesullen face of the prisoner. "Well, my son, I am positive that you havebeen accused somewhat hastily, but that's the way women have, jumpingat conclusions before they read the preface. But you must give Madamecredit for being honest in the matter, as well as the others. Beauvaisis positive that the move of the archbishop is due to your selling outto him. Come, tell me the story. If you wish, I'll promise not to repeatit. Madame is determined to lock you up in any event. "

There was something so likable about the old warrior that Mauricerelented. 

"There was nothing in the gun-barrels, " he said. "Some one had enteredthat room before me. I thought at first that Beauvais had them; but heis the last man in the world to dispose of them to the prelate. Buthas the archbishop got them? I wish I knew. That's all there is to thestory. "

"And her Royal Highness's dog?" slyly. 

"What! Did you hear about that?" Maurice flushed. 

"There is little going on in Bleiberg that we don't hear about. Theprincess is charming. Poor girl!"

"Madame's victory will have a strange odor. Can she not let the king diein peace?"

"My son, she dares not. If that throne were vacant of a king--Let us nottalk politics. "

"Madame has no love for me, " said Maurice. 

"Madame has no love for any one, if that will give you anysatisfaction. "

"It does. My lord the Englishman came near striking me last night. "

"I would not lay that up against him. Madame was the power behind thethrone. "

"And the impulse behind Madame?" smiling. 

"You are the only man who has ever crossed Madame's path; she can notforget it. "

"And she has put me in a bad light, as far as Fitzgerald is concerned. Aman will believe anything a woman says to him, if he loves her. "

"Let us avoid dissertations. "

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Yourself; you are interesting, entertaining, and instructive, " theColonel answered, laughing. "I never ran across an American who wasn't, and I have met a number. What have you done to Beauvais?"

"It is not exactly what I've done; it is what I know. "

"What do you know?"

Maurice repeated the story. 

"And you bested him at the rapiers?" in astonishment. 

"Is there anything startling about it?" asked Maurice. 

"He has no match hereabout. " The Colonel looked across the table at thesmooth-faced boy--he was scarcely else--and reflected. "Why did you giveup the army?"

"The army in America doesn't run to good clothes; the officers have towork harder than the privates, and, save in Washington, their socialstatus is nil. Besides, there is too much fighting going on all thetime. Here, an officer is always on dress parade. "

"Still, we are always ready. In the past we show up pretty well inhistory. But to return to Beauvais, it is very embarrassing, very. "

"It will be for him, if I live long enough. "

"Eh?"

"Beauvais has promised to push me off the board, to use his own words. Iam wondering how he will do it. "

"Don't let that disturb you; he will do nothing--now. Well, well; it isall a sorry game; and I find that making history has its disadvantages. But I have dandled Madame as a child on my knee, and her wish is law;wherever her fortunes lead, I must follow. She will win; she can nothelp winning. But I pity that poor devil of a king, who, they say, isnow bereft of speech. Ah, had he been a man, I could have gone into thisheart and soul. "

"He is on his deathbed. And his daughter, God knows what is in store forher. Prince Frederick is dallying with his peasant girl. The day forthe wedding has come and gone, unless he turned up to-day, which is notlikely. "

"Which is not likely indeed, " repeated the Colonel sadly. He pulled outhis pipe, and smoked for a time. "But let us not judge harshly, saysthe Book. There may be circumstances over which Prince Frederick has nocontrol. I suppose your sympathies are on the other side of the path. Youth is always quick and generous; it never stops to weigh causes orto reason why. And strange, its judgment is almost always unerring. I amgoing to share my dinner with you to-night. I'll try to brighten you upa bit. "

"Thanks. "

"Then after dinner we'll play poker until they come to take you toBrunnstadt. "

"What sort of a city is it?"

"You will not see much of it; so I will not take the trouble to tell youthat it is slightly inferior to Bleiberg. "

Sure enough, when the dark of evening fell, two servants entered withtrays and baskets, and proceeded to lay the table. They put new candlesin the bayonets. 

"Ha!" said the Colonel; "you have forgotten the wine, rascals!"

"Bring a dozen bottles, " Maurice suggested, having an idea in mind. 

"Eh?"

"Remember, Colonel, I've been a soldier and a journalist in a countrywhere they only wash with water. In the summer we have whisky iced, in the winter we have it hot; an antidote for both heat and cold. Ah, Colonel, if you only might sniff a mint julep!"

"A dozen bottles, then, " said the Colonel to the servants, who retiredto execute the order. 

"How old will it be?" asked Maurice. 

"Twice your age, my son. But do not make any miscalculation about mycapacity for tokayer. "

"Any miscalculation?" Maurice echoed. 

"Yes; if you plan to get me drunk. There are no troopers about, and itwould be easy enough for you to slip out if I should lose my head. "

Maurice's laugh had a false ring to it. The Colonel had made a veryshrewd guess. 

"Well!" said the Colonel, with a gesture toward the table. 

They sat down, and both made an excellent dinner. Maurice demolisheda roasted pheasant, stuffed with chestnuts, while the Coloneldisintegrated a duck. The wine came, and the servants ranged six bottleson the side of each plate. It was done so gravely that Maurice laughedheartily. The wine was the oldest in Madame's cellar, and Mauricewondered at the Colonel's temerity in selecting it. The bottles were ofthick glass, fat-bottomed, and ungainly, and Maurice figured that therewas more than a pint in each. It possessed a delicious bouquet. TheColonel emptied three bottles, with no more effect than if the wine hadbeen water. Maurice did not appreciate this feat until he had himselfemptied a bottle. It was then he saw that the boot was likely to be onthe other foot. 

He looked at the Colonel enviously; the old soldier was a gulf. Hehad miscalculated, indeed. But he was fertile in plans, and a morereasonable one occurred to him. He drank another bottle and began totalk verbosely. Later he grew confidential. He told the Colonel a greatmany things which--had never happened, things impossible and improbable. The Colonel listened soberly, and nodded now and again. Dinner past, they pushed the remains aside and began to play poker, a game at whichthe Colonel proved to be no novice, much to Maurice's wonder. 

"Why, you know the game as thoroughly as an Arizona corporal. "

"I generally spend a month of the winter in Vienna. One of yourcompatriots taught me the interesting game. " The Colonel shuffled thecards. "It is the great American game, so I am told. "

"O, they play checkers in the New England states, " said Maurice, hiccoughing slightly. "But out west and in all the great cities pokerhas the way. "

"What have you got?" asked the Colonel, answering a call. 

"Jacks full. "

"Takes the pot;" and this Americanism came so naturally that Mauriceroared. 

"Poker is a great preliminary study to diplomacy, " said the Colonel, ashe scrutinized his hand. "You raise it?"

"Yes. One card. Diplomacy? So it is. I played a game with the Chineseambassador in Washington one night. I was teaching him how to play. Ilost all the ready money I had with me. Next day I found out that hewas the shrewdest player in the diplomatic circles. Let's make it ajackpot. "

"All the same to me. "

And the game went on. Presently Maurice threw aside his coat. He wasfeeling the warmth of the wine, but he opened another bottle. 

"Is there any truth, " said the Colonel, "about your shooting a man whois found cheating in your country?"

"There is, if you can draw quicker than he. " Maurice glanced at his handand threw it down. 

"What did you have?"

"Nothing. I was trying to fill a straight. "

"So was I, " said the Colonel, sweeping the board. "It's your deal. " Heunbottoned his coat. 

Maurice felt a shiver of delight. Sticking out of the Colonel's belt wasthe ebony handle of a cavalry revolver, and he made up his mind to getit. There were no troopers around--the Colonel had admitted as much. Hebegan talking rapidly, sometimes incoherently. In a corner of the roomhe saw the cords which had been around his wrists and ankles the nightbefore. 

"Poker, " said the Colonel, "depends mostly on what you Americans callbluff. A bluff, as I understand it, is making the others think you havethem when you haven't, or you haven't got them when you have. In onecase you scare them, in the other you fish. You're getting flushed, myson; you'll have a headache to-night; and in an hour you start. "

An hour! There was fever in Maurice's veins, but it was not causedwholly by the heat of the wine. How should he manage it? He must havethat revolver. 

"Call? What have you got?" asked the Colonel. 

"Three kings--no, by George! only a pair. I thought a queen was aking. My head's beginning to get shaky. Colonel, I believe I am gettingdrunk. "

"I am sure of it. "

Maurice got up and rolled in an extraordinary fashion, but he wascareful not to overdo it. He began to sing. The Colonel got up, too, andhe was laughing. Maurice accidentally knocked over some empty bottles;he kicked them about. 

"Sh!" cried the Colonel, coming around the table; "you'll stampede thehorses. "

Maurice staggered toward him, and the Colonel caught him in his arms. Maurice suddenly drew back, and the Colonel found himself looking intothe cavernous tube of his own revolver. Not a muscle in his face moved. 

"Take off your coat, " said Maurice, quietly. 

The Colonel complied. "You are not so very drunk just now. "

"No. It was one of those bluffs when you make them think you haven'tthem when you have. "

"What next?" asked the Colonel. 

"Those cords in the corner. "

The Colonel picked them up, sat down and gravely tied one aroundhis ankles. Maurice watched him curiously. The old fellow was ratheragreeable, he thought. 

"Now, " the Colonel inquired calmly, "how are you going to tie my hands?Can you hold the revolver in one hand and tie with the other?"

"Hang me!" exclaimed Maurice, finding himself brought to a halt. 

"My son, " said the Colonel, "you are clever. In fact, you are one ofthose fellows who grow to be great. You never miss an opportunity, andmore often than not you invent opportunities, which is better still. Thetruth is, you have proceeded exactly on the lines I thought you would;and thereby you have saved me the trouble of lying or having it out withMadame. I am a victim, not an accomplice; I was forced at the point of arevolver; I had nothing to say. If I had really been careless you wouldhave accomplished the feat just the same. For it was easily accomplishedyou will admit. 'Tis true I knew you were acting because I expected youto act. All this preamble puzzles you. "

Certainly Maurice's countenance expressed nothing less than perplexity. He stepped back a few paces. 

"You have, " continued the Colonel, "perhaps three-quarters of an hour. You will be able to get out of here. You will have to depend on yourresources to cross the frontier. "

"Would you just as soon explain to me--"

"It means that a certain young lady, like myself, believes in yourinnocence. "

"The countess?" Maurice cried eagerly, remembering the look of the nightbefore and the tears which were in it. 

"I will not mention any names. Suffice it to say that it was due to herpleading that I consented to play poker--and to let you fall into myarms. Come, to work, " holding out his hands. 

First Maurice clasped the hand and wrung it. "Colonel, I do not want youto get into trouble on my account--"

"Go along with you! If you were really important, " in half a banter, "itwould be altogether a different matter. As it is, you are more in theway than anything else, only Madame does not see it in that light. Come, at my wrists, and take your handkerchief and tie it over my mouth; makea complete job of it while you're at it. "

"But they'll wonder how I tied you--"

"By the book, the boy is quite willing to sit down and play poker withme till the escort comes! Don't trouble yourself about me; Madame hastoo much need of me to give me more than a slight rating. Hurry and beoff, and remember that Beauvais has promised to push you off the board. Take the near path for the woods and strike northeast. If you run intoany sentries it will be your own fault. "

"And the army?"

"The army? Who the devil has said anything about the army?"

"I heard it go past last night. "

"Humph! Keep to the right of the pass. Now, quick, before my consciencespeaks above a whisper. "

"I should like to see the countess. "

"You will--if you reach Bleiberg by to-morrow night. "

Maurice needed no further urging, and soon he had the Colonel securelybound and silenced. Next he put on the Colonel's hat and coat, andexamined the revolver. 

"It was very kind of you to load it, Colonel. "

The Colonel blinked his eyes. 

"Au revoir!" said Maurice, as he made for the door. "Vergis mein nicht!"and he was gone. 

He crept down the stairs, cautiously entered the court, it was deserted. The moon was up and shining. The gate was locked, but he climbed itwithout mishap. Not a sentry was in sight. He followed the path, andswung off into the forest. He was free. Here he took a breathing spell. When he started onward he held the revolver ready. Woe to the sentry whoblundered on him! For he was determined to cross the frontier if therewas a breath of life in him. Moreover, he must be in Bleiberg withintwenty hours. 

He was positive that Madame the duchess intended to steal a march, todeclare war only when she was within gunshot of Bleiberg. It lay withhim to prevent this move. His cup of wrath was full. From now on he wasresolved to wage war against Madame on his own account. She had laughedin his face. He pushed on, examining trees, hollows and ditches. Sometimes he put his hand to his ear and listened. There was no sound inthe great lonely forest, save for the low murmur of the wind through thesprawling boughs. Shadows danced on the forest floor. Once he turned andshook his clenched fist toward the spot which marked the location of theRed Chateau. He thanked Providence that he was never to see it again. What an adventure to tell at the clubs when he once more regained hisVienna! Would he regain it?

Why did Madame keep Fitzgerald to her strings? He concluded not tobother himself with problems abstract; the main object was to crossthe Thalians by a path of his own choosing. When he had covered what hethought to be a quarter of a mile, he mounted a lookout. The highway wasabout three hundred yards to the left. That was where it should be. Hesaw no sentries, so he slid down from the tree and resumed his journey. The chestnuts, oaks, and firs were growing thicker and denser. A deadbranch cracked with a loud report beneath his feet. With his heartalmost in his throat, he lay down and listened. A minute passed; helistened in vain for an answering noise. He got up and went on. 

Presently he came upon a cluster of trees which was capable of affordinga hiding place for three or four men. He stood still and surveyed it. The moon cast moving shadows on either side of it, but these had nohuman shape. He laughed silently at his fear, and as he was about topass the cluster a man stepped out from behind it, his eyes gleamingand his hand extended. He was rather a handsome fellow, but pale andemaciated. He wore a trooper's uniform, and Maurice, swearing softly, concluded that his dash for liberty had come to naught. He, too, helda revolver in his hand, but he dared not raise it. There was a certainexpression on the trooper's face which precluded any arguing. 

"If you move, " the trooper said, in a mild voice; "if you utter a sound, I'll blow off the top of your cursed head!"

CHAPTER XXIV. THE PRISONER OF THE RED CHATEAU

There the two stood, mottled in the moonshine and shadow, with wildeyes and nostrils distended, the one triumphant, the other raging andimpotent. Maurice was growing weary of fortune's discourtesies. He gazedalternately from his own revolver, lying at his feet, to the one inthe hand of this unexpected visitant. Only two miles between him andfreedom, yet he must turn back. The Colonel had reckoned without Madame, and therefore without reason. This man had probably got around in frontof him when he climbed the tree. He turned sullenly and started to walkaway, expecting to be followed. 

"Halt! Where the devil are you going?"

"Why, back to your cursed chateau!" Maurice answered surlily. 

The strange trooper laughed discordantly. "Back to the chateau? I thinknot. Now, then, right about face--march! Aye, toward the frontier; andif I have to go on alone, so much the worse for you. I've knocked in oneman's head; if necessary, I'll blow off the top of yours. You know theway back to Bleiberg, I don't; that is why I want your company. Nowmarch. "

But Maurice did not march; he was filled with curiosity. "Are you atrooper in Madame the duchess's household?" he asked. 

"No, curse you!"

"Who are you, then?"

"Come, come; this will not pass. No tricks; you have been following methese twenty minutes. "

"The deuce I have!" exclaimed Maurice, bewildered. "To Bleiberg, is it?"

"And without loss of time. When we cross the Thalians I shall beperfectly willing to parley with you. "

"To Bleiberg, then, " said Maurice. "Since that is my destination, thedevil I care how I get there. "

"Do you mean to tell me that you are going to Bleiberg?" surprisemingling with his impatience. 

"No place else. "

"Are you a spy?" menacingly. 

"No more than you. "

"But that uniform!"

"I fancy yours looks a good deal like it, " Maurice replied testily. 

"I confess I never saw you before, and your tongue has a foreign twist, "with growing doubt. 

"I am sure I never saw you before, nor want to see you again. "

"What are you doing in that uniform?"

"You have the advantage of me; suppose you begin the introduction?"

"Indeed I have the advantage of you, and propose to maintain it. Who areyou and what are you doing here? Answer!"

There was something in the young man's aspect which convinced Mauricethat it would be folly to trifle. Besides, he gave to his words anair which distinguishes the man who commands from the man who serves. Maurice briefly acquainted the young man with his name and position. 

"And you?" he asked. 

"I?" The young man laughed again. It was an unpleasant laugh. "Nevermind who I am. Let us go, we are losing time. What is the date?"suddenly. 

"The twentieth of September, " answered Maurice. 

"My God, a day too late!" The young man had an attack of vertigo, andwas obliged to lean against a tree for support. "Are you telling me thetruth about yourself?"

"I am. I myself was attempting to dispense with the questionablehospitality of the Red Chateau--good Lord!" striking his forehead. 

"What's the matter?"

"Are you the mysterious prisoner of the chateau, the man they have beenkeeping at the end of the east corridor on the third floor?"

"Yes. And woe to the woman who kept me there! How came you there?"

Maurice, confident that something extraordinary was taking place, related in synopsis his adventures. 

"And this cursed Englishman?"

"Will drain a bitter cup. Madame is playing with him. "

"And the king; is he dead?"

"He is dying. " Maurice's wonder grew. What part had this strange youngman in this comedy, which was rapidly developing into a tragedy?

"And her Highness--her Royal Highness?" eagerly clutching Maurice by thearm; "and she?"

"She does not murmur, though both her pride and her heart are sore. She has scarcely a dozen friends. Her paralytic father is the theme ofribald jest; and now they laugh at her because the one man who perhapscould have saved the throne has deserted her like a coward. Hang him, Isay!"

"What do they say?" The tones were hollow. 

"They say he is enamoured of a peasant girl, and dallies with her, forgetting his sacred vows, his promised aid, and perhaps even this, hiswedding day. "

"God help him!" was the startling and despairing cry. .. . He was againseized with the vertigo, and swayed against the tree. For a moment heforgot Maurice, covered his face with his unengaged hand, and sobbed. 

Maurice was helpless; he could offer no consolation. This grief he couldnot understand. He stooped and picked up his revolver and waited. 

"I am weak, " said the other man, dashing his hand from his eyes; "I amweak and half starved. It would be better for all concerned if I blewout my brains. The twentieth, the twentieth!" he repeated, dully. "Curseher!" he burst forth; "as there's a God above us, I'll have revenge. Aye, I'll return to the chateau, Madame, that I will, but at the head often thousand men!. .. The twentieth! She will never forgive me; she willthink I, too, deserted her!" He broke down again. 

"An army!" cried Maurice. 

"Aye, and ten thousand men! Come, " taking Maurice by the arm; "come, they may be seeking us. To the frontier. Every hour is precious. Toa telegraph office! We shall see if I dally with peasant girls, if Iforsake the woman I love!"

"You?" Maurice retreated a step. The silver moonshine became tinged withred. 

"I am Prince Frederick, and I love her Highness. I would sacrifice athousand kingdoms to spare her a moment's sorrow. I have always lovedher. "

"What a woman!" Maurice murmured, as the scheme of Madame's flashedthrough his mind. "What a woman! And she had the audacity to kidnap you, too!"

"And by the most dishonorable device. I and my suite of gentlemen werecoming to Bleiberg to make the final arrangements. At Ehrenstein Ireceived a telegram which requested me to visit till the following traina baron who was formerly a comrade of my father. The telegram advised meof his sudden illness, and that he had something important to discloseto me. I bade my gentlemen, save one, proceed to Bleiberg. My aide andI entered the carriage which was to convey us to the castle. We neverreached it. On the road we fell into an ambush, a contrivance ofMadame's. I was brought to the chateau. Whatever happened to Hofer, myaide, I do not know. Doubtless he is dead. But Madame shall pay, both inpride and wealth. I will lay waste this duchy of hers, though in the endthe emperor crush me. Let us be off. "

They stumbled on through the forest. So confused was Maurice that heforgot his usual caution. The supreme confidence of this woman andthe flawlessness of her schemes dazed him. So far she had stopped atnothing; where would she end? A Napoleon in petticoats, she was about toappall the confederation. She had suppressed a prince who was heir toa kingdom triple in power and size to the kingdom which she coveted. Madame the duchess was relying on some greater power, else her planswere madness. 

As for the prince, he had but one thought: to reach Bleiberg. Theconfinement, together with mental suffering, anxiety and forcedinaction, began to tell on him. Twice he tripped and fell, and Mauricehad to return to assist him to his feet. However could they crossthe mountains, a feat which needed both courage and extreme physicalendurance?

"I am so weak, " said the prince, "so pitiably weak! I thought tofrighten the woman by starving myself, poor fool that I was!"

And they went on again. Maurice was beginning to feel the effect of hiswine-bibbing; he had a splitting headache. 

"Silence!" he suddenly whispered, sinking and dragging the prince withhim. 

A hundred yards in advance of them stood a sentinel, his body bentforward and a hand to his ear. Presently he, too, lay down. Five minutespassed. The sentinel rose, and convinced that his ears had tricked him, resumed his lonely patrol. He disappeared toward the west, while thefugitives made off in an easterly direction. Maurice was a soldieragain. Every two or three hundred yards he knelt and pressed his ear tothe cold, damp earth and waited for a familiar jar. The prince watchedthese movements with interest. 

"You have been a soldier?" he asked. 

"Yes. Perhaps we had better strike out for the mountains. The sentryline can not extend as far as this. "

But now they could see the drab peaks of the mountains which loomedbetween the partly dismantled trees. Beyond lay the kingdom. Would theyever reach it? There was only one pass; this they dared not make. Yetif they attempted to cross the mountains in a deserted place, theymight very easily get lost; for in some locations it was fully six milesacross the range, and this, with the ups and downs and windings inand out, might lengthen into twenty miles. They struck out toward themountains, and after half an hour they came upon an unforeseen obstacle. They sat down in despair. This obstacle was the river, not very, wide, but deep, turbulent and impassable. 

"We shall have to risk the pass, " said Maurice, gloomily; "though heavenknows how we are to get through it. We have ten shots between us. "

They followed the river. The roar of it deadened all other sounds. Fora mile they plodded on, silent, watchful and meditative. The princethought of his love; Maurice tried to forget his. For him the romancehad come to an end, its logical end; and it was now only a question ofgetting back to the world to which he belonged and remaining there. Herecalled a line he had read somewhere: a deep love, gashes into thesoul as a scar is hewn upon the body and remains there during the wholelife. .. 

"Look!" cried the prince. He pointed toward the west. 

Maurice came out of his dream and looked. Some distance west of thepass, perhaps half a mile from where they stood, Maurice saw the twinkleof a hundred campfires. It was Madame's army in bivouac. 

"What does this mean?" asked the prince. 

"It means that the duchess is on the eve of striking a blow for hercrown, " answered Maurice. "And how are we to make the pass, which isprobably filled with soldiers? If only we could find a boat! Ah! whatwould your Highness call this?" He pointed to a thread-like line of bareearth which wended riverward. 

"A sheep or cattle path, " said the prince, after a close inspection. 

"Then the river is perhaps fordable here!" exclaimed Maurice jubilantly. "At any rate, we'll try it; if it gets too deep, we'll come back. "

He walked to the water's edge, studied the black whirling mass, shrugged and stepped in. The prince came after him, unhesitatingly. Bothshivered. The water was intensely cold. But the bed was shallow, andthe river never mounted above the waist. However, in midstream it rushedstrongly and wildly along, and all but carried them off their feet. Theyarrived in safety at the opposite shore, weak and cold in body, but warmin spirit. They lay on the grass for several moments, breathing heavily. They might now gain the pass by clambering up the mountain and pickingtheir way down from the other side. It was not possible that Madame'stroopers had entered into the kingdom. 

"I am giving out, " the prince confessed reluctantly. "Let us make asmuch headway as we can while I last. "

They stood up. Now the moon fell upon them both; and they viewed eachother with no little curiosity. What the prince saw pleased him, for hepossessed a good eye. What Maurice saw was a frank, manly countenance, youthful, almost boyish. The prince did not look to be more than threeand twenty, if that; but there was a man's determination in his jaw. This jaw pleased Maurice, for it confided to him that Madame had nowsomething that would cause her worry. 

"I put myself in your care, " said the prince, offering his hand. "I amnot equal to much. A man can not see his wedding day come and go withouthim, helpless to prevent it, and not have the desire to sit down andweep and curse. You will see nothing but the unfavorable side of me forthe next dozen hours. "

"I'm not altogether amiable myself, " replied Maurice with a shortlaugh. "Let us get out of the moonlight, " he added; "we are somewhatconspicuous, and besides, we should keep moving; this cold isparalyzing. Is your Highness equal to the climbing?"

"Equal or not, lead the way. If I fall I'll call you. "

And the weary march began again; over boulders, through tangles of toughshrubbery, up steep inclines, around precipices, sometimes enveloped inmists, yet still they kept on. Often the prince fell over ragged stones, but he picked himself up without assistance; though he swore some, Maurice thought none the less of him for that bit of human weakness. Thecold was numbing, and neither felt the cuts and bruises. 

After two hours of this fatiguing labor they arrived upon a smallplateau, about two thousand feet above the valley. The scene was solemnand imposing. The world seemed lying at their feet. The chateau, halfhidden in the mist, sparkled like an opal. Maurice scowled at it. To theprince the vision was as reviving as a glass of wine. He threatenedit with his fist, and plunged on with renewed vigor. There are fewsensations so stimulating as the thought of a complete revenge. Theangle of vision presently changed, and the historic pile vanished. Maurice never saw the Red Chateau again. 

Little more in the way of mishap befell them; and when the moon hadwheeled half way down from the zenith, the kingdom lay below them. A descent of an hour's duration brought them into the pass. Mauricecalculated that nearly five hours had passed since he left the chateau;for the blue was fading in the east. The phantom vitality of the princenow forsook him; his legs refused their offices, and he sank upon aboulder, his head in his hands. Maurice was not much better; but theprince had given him the burden of responsibility, and he was determinedto hold up under it. 

"If your Highness will remain here, " he said, "I will fetch assistance, for the barrack can not be far off. "

The prince nodded and Maurice tramped away. But the miniature barrackand the quaint stone customs house both were wrapt in gloom anddarkness. Maurice investigated. Both buildings were deserted; therewas no sign of life about. He broke a window, and entered the customsoffice. Remembering that Colonel Mollendorf smoked, he searched theinner pocket of his coat. He drew forth a box of wax matches, struck oneand looked about. A struggle had taken place. Evidences were strewn onthe floor. The telegraph operator's table had been smashed into bits, the instrument twisted out of shape, the jars broken and the wires cut. Like indications of a disturbance were also found in the barrack. 

Maurice began to comprehend. Madame's troopers had crossed the frontier, but they had returned again, taking with them the handful of troopersbelonging to the king. It was plain that the object of this skirmish hadbeen to destroy communications between Bleiberg and the frontier. Madamedesired to effect a complete surprise, to swoop down on the capitalbefore it could bring a large force into the field. 

There is an unwritten law that when one country intends to wage waragainst its neighbor a formal declaration shall be made. But againMadame had forsaken the beaten paths. More than three weeks had passedsince the duchy's representative in Bleiberg had been discredited andgiven his passports. At once the duchess had retaliated by discreditingthe king's representative in Brunnstadt. Ordinarily this would have beenunderstood as a mutual declaration of war. Instead, both governmentsignored each other, one suspiciously, the other intentionally. All ofwhich is to say, the gage of war had been flung, but neither had stoopedto pick it up. 

Perhaps Madame expected by this sudden aggressiveness to win her fightwith as little loss of blood as possible, which in justice to her was toher credit. Again, a declaration of war openly made might have moved theconfederation to veto it by coercion. To win without loss of life wouldleave the confederation powerless to act. Therefore it will be seen thatMadame was not only a daring woman, but a general of no mean ability. 

This post was an isolated one; between it and Bleiberg there was noteven a village. The main pass from the kingdom into the duchy was aboutthirty miles east. Here was a small but lively city named Coberg, arailway center, garrisoned by one thousand troops. At this pass Madame'scontemplated stroke of war would have been impossible. The railway randirectly from Coberg to Brunnstadt, fifty miles south of the frontier. A branch of the railway ran from Brunnstadt to a small town sevenmiles south of the Red Chateau, which accounts for the ease with whichMadame's troops had reached the isolated pass. It was now likely thatMadame would arrive before Bleiberg ere her enemies dreamed of thestroke. Maurice could see how well the traitorous administration hadplayed into Madame's hands. Here was the one weak spot, and they hadallowed it to remain thus weak. 

"The kingdom is lost, " thought Maurice. "His Highness and I may as wellreturn to the chateau, for all the good our escape will do us. Hang themall!"

He began to forage, and discovered a bottle full of peach brandy. Hedrank half the contents, reserving the remainder for the prince. As helowered the bottle there came a sound which caused him almost to losehold of the vigorous tonic. The sound he heard was the shrill whinneyof a horse. He pocketed the bottle and dashed out to the stables. To hisjoy several horses stamped restlessly in the stalls. The attacking partyhad without doubt come on foot. He led out two, saddled and bridled themand returned to the prince, who had fallen asleep. Maurice roused him. 

"To Bleiberg, your Highness, " he cried, at the same time offering thebottle, which the prince did not hesitate to empty. 

"Ha!" staggering to his feet. "Where are the men?"

Maurice explained the cause of their absence. The prince swore, andclimbed with difficulty into the saddle. 

"Thank God, " he said, as they galloped away, "we shall be there first. "

"Adieu, Madame!" Maurice cried, airily. He was free. 

"To our next meeting, duchess!" The prince, too, was free, but hethirsted for a full revenge. 

They had been on the way but a short time when Maurice lifted his arm. 

"Look!"

The prince raised his head. It was dawn, yellow and cold and pure. 

They fell into silence; sometimes Maurice caught himself counting thebeat of the hoofs and the variation of sounds, as when they strucksand or slate, or crossed small wooden bridges. Here and there he sawpeasants going into the fields to begin the long, long day of toil. Thesaddle on which he sat had been the property of a short man, for thestirrups were too high, and the prince's were too low. But neitherdesired to waste time to adjust them. And so they rode with danglinglegs and bodies sunken in the saddles; mute, as if by agreement. 

They had gone perhaps ten miles when they perceived a horse flyingtoward them, half a mile away. The rider was not yet visible. They feltno alarm, but instinctively they drew together. Nearer and nearer camethe lonely horseman, and as the distance lessened into some hundredyards they discerned the flutter of a gown. 

"A woman!" exclaimed Maurice. "And alone this time of morning!"

"Eh?" cried the prince; "and heading for the duchy? Let us wait. "

They drew up to the side of the highway. The woman came fearlessly on, her animal's head down and his tail flaring out behind. On, on; abreastof them; as she flew past there was a vision of a pale, determined face, a blond head bared to the chill wind. She heeded not their challenge;it was a question whether or not she heard it. They stood watching heruntil she and her horse dwindled into a mere moving speck, finally tobecome lost altogether in a crook of the road. 

"I should like to know what that means, " said Maurice. 

"It is very strange, " the prince said, musingly. "I have seen that womanbefore. She is one of the dancers at the opera. "

"Mayhap she has a lover on the other side. "

"Mayhap. Let us be on. There's the sun, and we are a good thirteenmiles away!" and the prince slapped the neck of his horse, which boundedforward. 

This tiring pace they maintained until they mounted the hill from whichthey could see the glittering spires of the city, and the Werter See asit flashed back the sunlight. 

"Bleiberg!" Maurice waved his hand. 

"Thanks to you, that I look on it. "

It was ten o'clock when they passed under the city gates. 

"Monsieur, will you go with me to the palace?" asked the prince. 

"If your Highness will excuse me, " said Maurice; "no, I should be in theway; and besides I am dead for want of sleep. "

"I shall never sleep, " grumbled the prince, "till I have humbled thatwoman. And you? Have you no rankle in your heart? Have you no desire towitness that woman's humiliation?"

"Your Highness, I belong to a foreign country. "

"No matter; be my aide. Come; I offer you a complete revenge for thetreatment you have received at Madame's hands. Your government shallnever know. "

Maurice studied the mane of his horse. Suddenly he made a gesture. Thisgesture consigned to the four winds his diplomatic career. "I accept, "he said. "You will find me at the Continental. I confess that I have nolove for this woman. She has robbed me of no little conceit. "

"To the palace, then; to the palace! And this hour to-morrow we, you andI, will drink to her Royal Highness at the Red Chateau. To the palace!"

Up the Strasse they raced, through the lower town to the upper, and downthe broad asphalt to the palace gates. The prince rushed his horse tothe very bars and shook them in his wild impatience. 

"Ho! open, open!" he called. 

Several cuirassiers lounged about. At the sight of these two hatless, bedraggled men storming the gates, they ran forward with drawn swordsand angry cries. Lieutenant Scharfenstein was among them. At secondglance he recognized Maurice, who hailed him. 

"Open, Lieutenant, " he cried; "it is his Highness, Prince Frederick!"

The bars came down, the gates swung in. 

"Go and sleep, " said the prince to Maurice; "I will send an orderly foryou when the time comes. " And with this he dashed up the driveway to themain entrance of the palace, leaped from his horse and disappeared. 

Maurice wheeled and drove leisurely to the Continental, leaving theamazed cuirassiers gaping after him. He experienced that exuberance ofspirits which always comes with a delightful day dream. He forgot hisweariness, his bruises. To mingle directly in the affairs of kings andprinces, to be a factor among factors who surround and uphold thrones, seemed so at variance with his republican learning that he was not surethat all this was not one long dream--Fitzgerald and his consols, themeeting with the princess, the adventures at Madame's chateau, theduel with Beauvais, the last night's flight with the prince across themountains! Yes; he had fallen asleep somewhere and had been whisked awayinto a kind of fairyland. Every one was in trouble just now, as theyalways are in certain chapters of fairy tales, but all would endhappily, and then--he would wake. 

Meanwhile the prince entered the palace and was proceeding up the grandcorridor, when a bared sword stayed his progress. 

"Monsieur, " said von Mitter, "you have lost your way. You can not enterhere. "

"I?" a haughty, threatening expression on his pale face. "Are you sure?"

Von Mitter fell back against the wall and all but lost hold of hissaber. "Your Highness?" he gasped, overcome. 

"Even so!" said the prince. "The archbishop! the Marshal! Lead me tothem at once!"

Von Mitter was too much the soldier not to master his surprise at once. He saluted, clicked his heels and limped toward the throne room. He stopped at the threshold, saluted again, and, in a voice full ofquavers, announced:

"His Highness Prince Frederick of Carnavia. "

He stepped aside, and the prince pushed past him into the throne room. At this dramatic entrance there rose from the archbishop, the Marshal, the princess, the Carnavian ambassador, from all the court dignitaries, a cry of wonder and astonishment. 

"His Highness!"

"Aye!" cried the prince, brokenly, for his joy at seeing the princessnigh overcame him. "I have been a prisoner of Madame's, who at thismoment is marching on Bleiberg with an army four thousand strong!" Andstumblingly he related his misadventures. 

The Marshal did not wait until he had done, nor did the new Colonelof the cuirassiers; both rushed from the room. The archbishop frowned;while the princess and the court stared at the prince with varyingemotions. Before the final word had passed his lips, he approached herHighness, fell on his knee and raised her hand to his lips. He noticednot how cold it was. 

"Thank God, Mademoiselle, " he said, "that once more I look into youreyes. And if one wedding day is gone--well, there is yet time foranother!" He, rose, and proudly before them all he drew her toward himand kissed her cheek. It was his right; she was, the light of allhis dreams, at once his bride-to-be and lady-love. But in his joy andeagerness he did not see how pale she grew at the touch of his lips, norhow the lids of her eyes trembled and fell. 

Next the prince recounted Maurice's adventures, how he became connectedwith those at the chateau, even Fitzgerald's fall from grace. Theindignation and surprise which was accorded this recital was unbounded. 

The brown eyes of the princess filled. In a moment she had traversed thespace of ten years to a rare September noon, when a gray-haired old manhad kissed her hand and praised her speech. A young dog stood besideher, ready for a romp in the park. Across the path sat her father, whowas smiling, and who would never smile again. How many times had hergirlish fancy pictured the son of that old man! How many times had shedreamed of him--aye, prayed for him! The room grew dark, and she pressedher hand over her heart. To her the future was empty indeed. There wasnothing left but the vague perfume of the past, the faint incense offutile, childish dreams. To stand on the very threshold of life, andyet to see no joy beyond! She struggled against the sob which rose, andconquered it. 

"To arms, Messieurs, to arms!" cried the prince, feverishly. "To arms!"

The archbishop stepped forward and took the prince's hand in his own. 

"God wills all things, " he said, sadly, "and perhaps he has willed thatyour Highness should come too late!" And that strange, habitual smilewas gone--forever. No one could fathom the true significance of thispeculiar speech. 

"But 'aux armes' was taken up, and spread throughout the city. 

CHAPTER XXV. THE FORTUNES OF WAR

War! The whole city was in tumult. The guests were leaving the hotels, the timid were preparing to fly, and shopkeepers were putting up theirblinds and hiding their valuables; the parks and cafes were deserted. The railway booking office was crowded, and a babel of tongues quarreledfor precedence. The siege of Paris was but yesterday's news, andtourists did not propose to be walled in from the outer world. Somelooked upon the scene as a comic opera; others saw the tragedy of mensnarling at one another's throats. 

Two hundred gendarmes patrolled the streets; for in war time the dregsof a city float to the surface. Above the foreign legations flags rose, offering protection to all those who possessed the right to claim it. Less than four thousand troops had marched from the city that day, butthese were the flower of the army, consisting of two thousand foot, sixcannon and twelve hundred horse. Europe has always depended largelyon the cavalry, which in the past has been a most formidable engine inwarfare. 

With gay plumes and banners, glittering helmets and flashing cuirasses, they had gone forth to meet Madame and drive her back across the range. They had made a brave picture, especially the royal cuirassiers, whonumbered three hundred strong, and who were to fight not only for glory, but for bread. Fifty of them had been left behind to guard the palaces. 

In the royal bedchamber the king lay, all unconscious of the fateimpending. The brain had ceased to live; only a feeble pulse stirredirregularly. The state physician shook his head, and, from time to time, laid his fingers on the unfeeling wrist. To him it was a matter of a fewhours. 

But to the girl, whose face lay hidden in the counterpane, close to oneof those senseless hands, to her it was a matter of a breaking heart, ofeyes which could be no longer urged to tears, the wells having dried up. Dear God, she thought, how cruel it was! Her tried and trusted friend, the one playmate of her childhood, was silently slipping out of her lifeforever. Ah, what to her were crowns and kingdoms, aye, and even war?Her father dead, what mattered it who reigned? How she prayed that hemight live! They would go away together, and live in peace and quiet, undisturbed by the storms of intrigue. .. . It was not to be; he wasdying. She would be the wife of no man; her father, hovering in spiritabove her, would read her heart and understand. Dead, he would ask nosacrifice of her. Henceforth only God would be her king, and she wouldworship him in some sacred convent. 

The old valet, who had served his master from boyhood, stood in theanteroom and fumbled his lips, his faded eyes red with weeping. He waslosing the only friend he had. Elsewhere the servants wandered aboutrestlessly, waiting for news from the front, to learn if they, too, wereto join in the mad flight from the city. Few servants love masters inadversity. Self-interest is the keynote to their existences. 

In the east wing three men were holding a whispered consultation. Thefaces of two were pale and deep-lined; the face of the third expresseda mixture of condolence and triumph. These three gentlemen were thearchbishop, the chancellor and the Austrian ambassador. History has nottaken into account what passed between these three men, but subsequentevents proved that it signified disaster to one who dreamed of conquestand of power. 

Said the ambassador, rising: "After what has been said, his ImperialMajesty will, I can speak authoritatively, further discredit Walmoden;for I have this day received information from a reliable source whichprecludes any rehabilitation of that prince. My deepest sympathies arewith her Highness; his Majesty highly honored her unfortunate father. Permit me to bid you good day, for you know that the matter under myhand needs my immediate attention. "

When he had gone the prelate said: "My friend, our services to thekingdom are nearly over. "

"We are lost!" replied the chancellor. "The king is happy, indeed. "

"I find, " said the prelate, "that we have been lost for ten years. Hadthis Englishman proved true, it would not have mattered; had PrinceFrederick arrived in time, still it would not have mattered. But aboveall, I was determined that Madame the duchess should not triumph. Theend was written ten years ago. How invincible is fate! How incontestibleits decrees!"

In the lower town the students were preparing a riot, which was to takeplace that night. Old Stuler's was thronged. Stuler himself looked onindifferently, even listlessly. He had heard of Kopf's death. 

It was half after five of the afternoon. Six miles beyond the Althofenbridge, in all thirteen miles from Bleiberg, a long, low cloud of dusthung over the king's highway. This cloud of dust was caused by thehurried, rhythmic pad-pad of human feet, the striking of hoofs andthe wheels of cannon. It marked the progress of an army. To the greatsurprise of the Marshal, the prince and the staff, they had pushed thusfar during the afternoon without seeing a sign of the enemy. Was Madameasleep? Was she so confident her projects were unknown that she hadchosen night as the time of her attack? Night, indeed, when the strengthof her forces would be a matter of conjecture to the assaulted, who atthe suddenness of her approach would succumb to panic! The prince wasjubilant and hopeful. He had no doubt that they would arrive at the passjust as Madame was issuing forth. This meant an easy victory, for oncethe guns covered the narrow pass, though Madame's army were ten times asstrong, its defeat was certain. A small force might hold it in check forhours. 

A squadron of cuirassiers had been sent forward to reconnoiter, and asyet none had returned with alarms. The road had many windings, and wasbillowed frequently with hills, and ran through small forests. Only thevast blue bulk of the mountains remained ever in view. 

"We shall drink at the Red Chateau to-night, " said the prince, gaily, toMaurice. 

"That we shall, " replied Maurice; "and the best in the cellars. "

Only the Marshal said nothing; he knew what war was. In his youth he hadserved in Transylvania, and he was not minded to laugh and jest. Then, too, there was injustice on both sides. Poor devil! as his thoughtsrecurred to the king. Touched for the moment by the wings of ambition, which is at best a white vulture, he had usurped another's throne, andto this end! But he was less answerable than the archbishop, who hadurged him. 

Occasionally he glanced back at the native troops, the foot, the horse, the artillery, and scowled. From these his glance wandered to the cold, impassive face of General Kronau, who rode at his side, and he rubbedhis nose. Kronau had been a favorite of Albrecht's. .. How would he act?In truth, the Marshal's thoughts were not altogether pleasant. Some ofthese men surrounding him, exchanging persiflage, might never witnessanother sunset. For, while the world would look upon this encounter asone looks upon a comedy, for some it would serve as tragedy. Often helent his ear to the gay banter of the young American, and watched thecareless smile on his face. What was he doing here? Why was he riskinghis life for no cause whatever, an alien, in natural sympathy neitherwith the kingdom nor with the duchy? A sad, grim smile parted his lips. 

"O, the urbanity of the young and the brave!" he murmured. 

Maurice felt the old familiar exhilaration--the soldier'sexhilaration--quicken the beat of his pulse. He did not ask himselfwhy he was here; he knew why. A delightful flower had sprung up in hisheart, and fate had nipped it. Whither this new adventure would leadhim he cared not. From now on life for him must be renewed by continualchange and excitement. Since no one depended on him, his life was histo dispose of as he willed. Friends? He laughed. He knew the world toowell. He himself was his best friend, for he had always been true tohimself. 

He might be shot, but he had faced that possibility before. Besides, to-day's experience would be new to him. He had never witnessed a battlein the open, man to man, in bright, resplendent uniforms. A ragged, dusty troop of brown-skinned men in faded blue, with free and easyhats, irregular of formation, no glory, no brilliancy, skirmishingwith outlawed white men and cunning Indians, that was the extent of hisknowledge by experience. True, these self-same men in dingy blue foughtwith a daring such as few soldiers living possessed; but they lacked theideal picturesqueness which made this army so attractive. 

The sharp edges of his recent fatigue were not yet dulled, but hiscuirass sat lightly upon him, the sound of the dangling saber at hisside smote pleasantly his ear, and the black Mecklenberg under himwas strong and active. To return to Madame's chateau in the guise of aconqueror was a most engaging thought. She had humbled his self-love, now to humble hers! He no longer bothered himself about Beauvais, whosecase he had placed in the hands of the Austrian ambassador. 

Gay and debonair he rode that late September afternoon. No man aroundhim had so clear an eye nor so constant a vivacity. Since he had nothingbut his life to lose, he had no fear. Let the theater be full of lightwhile the play lasted, and let the curtain fall to a round of huzzas!For a few short hours ago he had kissed a woman's hand and had lookedinto her sad brown eyes. "Why you do this I do not know, nor shall Iask. Monsieur, my prayers go with you. " Was not that an amulet? Hisdiplomatic career! He fell to whistling. 

"Ah! que j'aime les militaires!"

More than once the prince felt the sting of envy in his heart at thesight of this embodiment of supreme nonchalance. It spoke of a healthysalt in the veins, a salt such as kings themselves can not always boastof. A foreigner, a republican? No matter; a gallant man. 

"Monsieur, " he said impulsively, "you shall always possess myfriendship, once we are well out of this. "

"Thanks, your Highness, " replied Maurice, and laughing; "theafter-thought is timely!"

The sun lay close to the western rim of hills; an opal sky encompassedthe earth; the air was balmy. 

"The French call this St. Martin's summer, " said Maurice. "In my countrywe call it Indian summer--ah!" lifting in his stirrups. 

The army was approaching a hill, when suddenly a whirlwind of dustrolled over the summit, and immediately a reconnoitering patrol camedashing into view, waving their sabers aloft. .. . The enemy was less thana mile away, and advancing rapidly. 

To anticipate. Madame the duchess had indeed contemplated striking theblow at night. That morning, like the brave Amazon she was, she hadpitched her tent in the midst of her army, to marshal and direct itsforces. It was her intention to be among the first to enter Bleiberg;for she was a soldier's daughter, and could master the inherent fears ofher sex. 

That same morning a woman entered the lines and demanded an audience. What passed between her and Madame the duchess others never knew. Shehad also been apprised of the prisoners' escape, but, confident thatthey would not be able to make a crossing, she disdained pursuit. Theprince had missed his wedding day; he was no longer of use to her. As tothe American, he would become lost, and that would be the end of him. 

But the Englishman. .. . He was conscience eternally barking at her heels. The memory of that kiss still rankled in her mind, and not an hour wentby in which she did not chide herself for the folly. How to get rid ofhim perplexed her. Here he was, in the uniform of a Lieutenant-Colonel, ready to go to any lengths at a sign from her. There was something inher heart which she had not yet analyzed. First of all, her crown; as toher heart, there was plenty of time in which to study that peculiar andunstable organ. The possibility of the prince's arriving in Bleibergbefore her in no way disturbed her. Whenever her attack was made, failure would not attend it. She broke camp at two o'clock and took theroad leisurely toward Bleiberg. 

Thus, the two armies faced each other comparatively in the open. Abattle hung in the air. 

The king's forces came to an abrupt halt. Orderlies dashed to and fro. The artillery came rumbling and creaking to the front, wheeled, the gunsunlimbered and ranged so as to enfilade the road. The infantry deployedto right and left while the cavalry swung into position on the flanks. All this was accomplished with the equanimity of dress parade. Mauricecould not control his admiration. Madame, he thought, might win hercrown, but at a pretty cost. 

The Marshal and the staff posted themselves on the right breast of thehill, from whence, by the aid of binoculars, they could see the enemy. From time to time General Kronau nervously smoothed his beard, formedhis lips into words, but did not utter them, and glanced slyly fromthe corner of his eye at the Marshal, who was intent on the enemy'sapproach. Maurice was trying with naked eye to pierce the forest and therolling ground beyond, and waiting for the roar of the guns. 

Orders had been issued for the gunners to get the range and commencefiring; but as the gunners seemed over long in getting down to work, Maurice gazed around impatiently. The blood rushed into his heart. Forthis is what he saw: the infantry leaning indolently on their guns, their officers snipping the grasses with their swords; the cuirassiershidden in the bulk of the native cavalry; artillerymen seated carelesslyon the caissons, and the gunners smoking and leaning against the guns. All action was gone, as if by magic; nothing but a strange tableauremained! Moreover, a troop of native cavalry, which, for no apparentreason, had not joined the main body, had closed in on the generalstaff. Appalled by a sudden thought, Maurice touched the prince, wholowered his glasses and turned his head. Bewilderment widened his eyes, and the flush on his cheeks died away. He, too, saw. 

"Devil's name!" the Marshal burst forth, "why don't the blockheadsshoot? The enemy--" He stopped, his chin fell, for, as he turned, asingle glance explained all to him. The red on his face changed intoa sickly purple, and the glasses slipped from his hands and broke intopieces on the stony ground. 

"Marshal, " began General Kronau, "I respect your age and valiantservices. That is why we have come thirteen miles. You may keep yoursword, and also Monsieur the prince. For the present you are prisoners. "

For a moment the Marshal was stupefied. His secret fears had beenrealized. Suddenly a hoarse oath issued from his lips, he dragged hissaber from the scabbard, raised it and made a terrible sweep at theGeneral. But the stroke fell on a dozen intervening blades, and theMarshal's arms were held and forced to his sides. 

"Kronau. .. You?" he roared. "Betrayed! You despicable coward andtraitor! You--" But speech forsook him, and he would have fallen fromthe horse but for those who held his arms. 

"Traitor?" echoed Kronau, coolly. "To what and to whom? I am serving mytrue and legitimate sovereign. I am also serving humanity, since thisbattle is to be bloodless. It is you who are the traitor. You sworeallegiance to the duke, and that allegiance is the inheritance of thedaughter. How have you kept your oath?"

But the Marshal was incapable of answer. One looking at him would havesaid that he was suffering from a stroke of apoplexy. 

"I admit, " went on the General, not wholly unembarrassed, "that thepart I play is not an agreeable one to me, but it is preferable to theneedless loss of human life. The duchess was to have entered Bleibergat night, to save us this present dishonor, if you persist in callingit such. But his Highness, who is young, and Monseigneur the archbishop, who dreams of Richelieu, made it impossible. No harm is intended to anyone. "

The prince, white and shivering as if with ague, broke his sword on thepommel of the saddle and hurled the pieces at Kronau, who permitted themto strike him. 

"God's witness, " the prince cried furiously, "but your victory shallbe short-lived. I have an army, trusty to the last sword, and you shallfeel the length of its arm within forty-eight hours. "

"Perhaps, " said Kronau, shrugging. 

"It is already on the way. "

"Your Highness forgets that Carnavia belongs to the confederation, andthat the king, your father, dare not send you troops without the consentof the emperor, which, believe me, will never be given;" and he urgedhis horse down the slope. 

The army of the duchess had now gained the open. The advance wascomposed of cavalry, which came along the road with wings on eitherside, and with great dash and splendor. 

A noisy cheer arose, to be faintly echoed by the oncoming avalanche ofwhite horses and dazzling blue uniforms. 

This was the incident upon which Madame the duchess relied. 

With rage and chagrin in his heart, Maurice viewed the scene. The knellof the Osians had been struck. He gazed forlornly at the cuirassiers;they at least had come to sell their lives honestly for their bread. Presently the two armies came together; all was confusion and cheers. Kronau approached the leader of the cavalry. .. . Maurice was greatlydisturbed. He leaned toward the prince. 

"Your Highness, " he whispered, "I am going to make a dash for the road. "

"Yes, yes!" replied the prince, intuitively. "My God, yes! Warn her tofly, so that she will not be compelled to witness this cursed woman'striumph. Save her that humiliation. Go, and God be with you, my friend!We are all dishonored. The Marshal looks as if he were dying. "

The native troopers, in their eagerness to witness the meeting betweenKronau and the former Colonel of the cuirassiers, had pushed forward. Adozen, however, had hemmed in the Marshal, the prince and Maurice. Butthese were standing in their stirrups. Maurice gradually brought hishorse about so that presently he was facing north. Directly in front ofhim was an opening. He grasped his saber firmly and pressed the spurs. Quick as he was, two sabers barred his way, but he beat them aside, wentdiagonally down the hill, over the stone wall and into the road. 

While he was maneuvering for this dash, one man had been eying him withsatisfaction. As the black horse suddenly sank from view behind thehill, Beauvais, to the astonishment of Kronau, drew his revolver. 

"There goes a man, " he cried, "who must not escape. He is so valuablethat I shall permit no one but myself to bring him back!" And thesplendid white animal under him bounded up the hill and down the otherside. 

Beauvais had a well-defined purpose in following alone. He wasdetermined that one Maurice Carewe should not bother anyone hereafter;he knew too much. 

The white horse and the black faded away in the blur of rising dust. 

CHAPTER XXVI. A PAGE FROM TASSO

For a long time Maurice rode with his head almost touching the coalblack mane of his gallant Mecklenberg. Twice he glanced back to see whofollowed, but the volume of dust which rolled after him obscured allbehind. He could hear the far-off hammer of hoofs, but this, minglingwith the noise of his own horse, confused him as to the number ofpursuers. He reasoned that he was well out of range, for there came noreport of firearms. The road presently described a semi-circle, passingthrough a meager orchard. Once beyond this he turned again in thesaddle. 

"Only one; that is not so bad as it might be. It is one to one. " But asecond glance told him who this solitary pursuer was. "The devil!" helaughed--as one of Tasso's heroes might have laughed!--"The devil! howthat man loves me!" He was confident that the white horse would neverovertake the black. 

On they flew, pursued and pursuer. At length Maurice bit his lip andfrowned. The white horse was growing larger; the distance between waslessening, slowly but certainly. 

"Good boy!" he said encouragingly to the Mecklenberg. "Good boy!"

Deserted farm houses swept past; hills rose and vanished, but still thewhite horse crept up, up, up. The distance ere another half mile hadgone had diminished to four hundred yards; from four hundred it fell tothree hundred, from three hundred to two hundred. The Mecklenburg wasdoing glorious work, but the marvelous stride of the animal in therear was matchless. Suddenly Maurice saw a tuft of the red plume on hishelmet spring out ahead of him and sail away, and a second later camethe report. One, he counted; four more were to follow. Next a stream offire gassed along his cheek, and something warm trickled down the sideof his neck. Two, he counted, his face now pale and set. The thirdknocked his scabbard into the air. 

Quickly he shifted his saber to the left, dropped the reins and drew hisown revolver. He understood. He was not to be taken prisoner. Beauvaisintended to kill him offhand. Only the dead keep secrets. Maurice flungabout and fired three consecutive times. The white horse reared, and theshako of his master fell into the dust, but there was no other result. As Maurice pressed the trigger for the fourth time the revolver wasviolently wrenched from his hand, and a thousand needles seemed to bequivering in the flesh of his arm and hand. 

"My God, what a shot!" he murmured. "I am lost!"

Simultaneous with the fifth and last shot came sensation somewhat likethat caused by a sound blow in the middle of the back. Strange, buthe felt no pain, neither was there an accompanying numbness. Then heremembered his cuirass, which was of steel an eighth of an inch thick. It had saved his life. The needles began to leave his right hand andarm, and he knew that he had received no injury other than a shock. Hepassed the saber back to his right hand. He had no difficulty in holdingit. Gradually his grip grew strong and steady. 

Beauvais was now within twenty yards of Maurice. Had he been less eagerand held his fire up to this point, Maurice had been a dead man. Thewhite horse gained every moment. A dull fury grew into life in Maurice'sheart. Instead of continuing the race, he brought the Mecklenberg to hishaunches and wheeled. He made straight for Beauvais, who was surprisedat this change of tactics. In the rush they passed each other and thesteel hummed spitefully through space. Both wheeled again. 

"Your life or mine!" snarled Maurice. His coolness, however, wasproportionate to his rage. For the first time in his life the lust tokill seized him. 

"It shall be yours, damn you!" replied Beauvais. 

"The Austrian ambassador has your history; kill me or not, you arelost. " Maurice made a sweep at his enemy's head and missed. 

Beauvais replied in kind, and it flashed viciously off the point ofMaurice's saber. He had only his life to lose, but it had suddenlybecome precious to him; Beauvais had not only his life, but all thatmade life worth living. His onslaught was terrible. Besides, he wasfighting against odds; he wore no steel protector. Maurice wore his onlya moment longer. A cut in the side severed the lacings, and the saggingof the cuirass greatly handicapped him. He pressed the spurs and dashedaway, while Beauvais cursed him for a cowardly cur. Maurice, by thismaneuver, gained sufficient time to rid himself of the cumbersome steel. What he lost in protection, he gained in lightness and freedom. ShortlyBeauvais was at him again. The time for banter had passed; they foughtgrimly and silently. The end for one was death. Beauvais knew that ifhis antagonist escaped this time the life he longed for, the power andhonor it promised, would never be his. On his side, Maurice was equallydetermined to live. 

The horses plunged and snorted, reared and swayed and bit. Sometimesthey carried their masters several yards apart, only to come smashingtogether again. 

The sun was going down, and a clear, white light prevailed. Afar inthe field a herd was grazing, but no one would call them to the sheds. Master and mistress had long since taken flight. 

The duel went on. Maurice was growing tired. By and by he began to relysolely on the defense. When they were close, Beauvais played for thepoint; the moment the space widened he took to the edge. He saw whatMaurice felt--the weakening, and he indulged in a cruel smile. Theycame close; he made as though to give the point. Maurice, thinkingto anticipate, reached. Quick as light Beauvais raised his blade andbrought it down with crushing force, standing the while in the stirrups. The blow missed Maurice's head by an inch, but it sank so deeply in hisleft shoulder that it splintered the collar bone and stopped within ahair of the great artery that runs underneath. 

The world turned red, then black. When it grew light again Mauricebeheld the dripping blade swinging aloft again. Suddenly the black horsesnapped at the white, which veered. The stroke which would have splitMaurice's skull in twain, fell on the rear of the saddle, and the bladewas so firmly imbedded in the wooden molding that Beauvais could notwithdraw it at once. Blinded by pain as he was, and fainting, yetMaurice saw his chance. He thrust with all his remaining strength atthe brown throat so near him. And the blade went true. The other's bodystiffened, his head flew back, his eyes started; he clutched wildly atthe steel, but his hands had not the power to reach it. A bloody foamgushed between his lips; his mouth opened; he swayed, and finallytumbled into the road--dead. 

As Maurice gazed down at him, between the dead eyes and his own therepassed a vision of a dark-skinned girl, who, if still living, dwelt in alonely convent, thousands of miles away. 

Maurice was sensible of but little pain; a pleasant numbness began tosteal over him. His sleeve was soaked, his left hand was red, and theblood dripped from his fingers and made round black spots in the dust ofthe road. A circle of this blackness was widening about the head of thefallen man. Maurice watched it, fascinated. .. He was dead, and the factthat he was a prince did not matter. 

It seemed to Maurice that his own body was transforming into lead, andhe vaguely wondered how the horse could bear up such a weight. He wassleepy, too. Dimly it came to him that he also must be dying. .. . No;he would not die there, beside this man. He still gripped his saber. Indeed, his hand was as if soldered to the wire and leather windings onthe hilt. Mollendorf had said that Beauvais was invincible. .. . Beauvaiswas dead. Was he, too, dying?. .. No; he would not die there. TheMecklenberg started forward at a walk; a spur had touched him. 

"No!" Maurice cried, throwing off the drowsiness. "My God, I will notdie here!. .. Go, boy!" The Mecklenberg set off, loping easily. 

His recent enemy, the great white horse, stood motionless in the centerof the road, and followed him with large, inquiring eyes. He turnedand looked at the silent huddled mass in the dust at his feet, andwhinneyed. But he did not move; a foot still remained in the stirrup. 

Soon Maurice remembered an episode of his school days, when, in thespirit of precocious research, he had applied carbolic acid to his arm. It occurred to him that he was now being bathed in that burning fluid. He was recovering from the shock. With returning sense came the increaseof pain, pain so tormenting and exquisite that sobs rose in his throatand choked him. Perspiration matted his hair; every breath he took wasa knife thrust, and the rise and fall of the horse, gentle as it was, caused the earth to reel and careen heavenward. 

Bleiberg; he was to reach Bleiberg. He repeated this thought over andover. Bleiberg, to warn her. Why should he go to Bleiberg to warn her?What was he doing here, he who loved life so well? What had led him intothis?. .. There had been a battle, but neither army had been cognizantof it. He endeavored to move his injured arm, and found it bereft oflocomotion. The tendons had been cut. And he could not loosen his gripon the saber which he held in his right hand. The bridle rein swung fromside to side. 

Rivulets of fire began to run up and down his side; the cords in hisneck were stiffening. Still the blood went drip, drip, drip, into thedust. Would he reach Bleiberg, or would he die on the way? God! for adrink of water, cold water. He set his teeth in his lips to neutralizethe pain in his arm and shoulder. His lips were numb, and the pressureof his teeth was as nothing. From one moment to the next he expectedto drop from the saddle, but somehow he hung on; the spark of life wastenacious. The saber dangled on one side, the scabbard on the other. Theblood, drying in places, drew the skin as tight as a drumhead. 

On, on, on; up long inclines, down the steeps; he lost all trackof time, and the darkness thickened and the stars stood out moreclearly. .. . He could look back on a clean life; true, there were somesmall stains, but these were human. Strange fancies jostled one another;faces long forgot reappeared; scenes from boyhood rose before him. Home!He had none, save that which was the length and breadth of his nativeland. On, on, on; the low snuffle of the horse sometimes aroused himfrom the stupor. 

"Why you do this I do not know, nor shall I ask. Monsieur, my prayersgo with you!". .. She had said that to him, and had given him her hand tokiss; a princess, one of the chosen and the few. To live long enough tosee her again; a final service--and adieu!. .. Ah, but it had been a goodfight, a good fight. No fine phrases; nothing but the lust for blood;a life for a life; a game in which the winner was also like to lose. Agray patch in the white of the road attracted his attention--a bridge. 

"Water!" he murmured. 

Mottled with the silver of the stars, it ran along through the fields;a brook, shallow and narrow, but water. The perfume of the grasses wassweet; the horse sniffed joyously. He stopped of his own accord. Mauricehad strength enough to dismount. The saber slid from his grasp. Hestaggered down to the water. In kneeling a faintness passed over him; herolled into the brook and lay there until the water, almost clogging histhroat and nostrils, revived him. He crawled to his knees, coughingand choking. The contact of the cold with the burning wound caused adelightful sensation. 

"Water!" he said, and splashed it in his face. 

The horse had come down from the road. He had not waited for aninvitation. He drank thirstily at the side of his master. The watergurgled in his long, black throat. 

"Good boy!" Maurice called, and dashed water against his shoulder. "Goodboy!" he remembered that the horse in biting the white one had saved hislife. 

Each handful of the cold liquid caused him to gasp; but soon the feverand fire died out, leaving only the duller pain. When he rose from hisknees, however, he found that the world had not yet ceased its wildreeling. He stooped to regain his saber, and fell into the dust; thoughto him it was not he who fell, but the earth which rose. He struggled tohis feet, leaned panting on his saber, and tried to steady himself. Helaughed hysterically. He had dismounted, but he knew that he could neverclimb to the back of the horse; and Bleiberg might yet be miles away. Towalk the distance; was it possible? To reach Bleiberg before Madame. .. . Madame the duchess and her army! He laughed again, but there was a wildstrain in his laughter. Ah, God! what a farce it was! One man dead andanother dying; the beginning and the end of the war. The comic opera!La Grande Duchesse! And the fool of an Englishman was playing Fritz! Hestarted down the road, his body slouched forward, the saber trailing inthe dust. .. . 

"Voici le sabre de mon pere!"

The hand of madness had touched him. The Mecklenberg followed at hisheels as a dog would have followed his master. 

Less than a mile away a yellow haze wavered in the sky. It was thereflection of the city lights. 

Maurice passed under the town gates, the wild song on his lips, his eyesbloodshot, his hair dank about his brow, conscious of nothing but themad, rollicking rhythm. Nobody molested him; those he met gave him thefull width of the road. A strange picture they presented, the man andthe troop horse. Some one recognized the trappings of the horse; halfan hour later it was known throughout the city that the king's armyhad been defeated and that Madame was approaching. Students begantheir depredations. They built bonfires. They raided the office of theofficial paper, and destroyed the presses and type. Later they marchedaround the Hohenstaufenplatz, yelling and singing. 

Once a gendarme tried to stop Maurice and inquire into his business. The inquisition was abruptly ended by a cut from the madman's sword. The gendarme took to his legs. Maurice continued, and the Mecklenbergtramped on after him. Into the Konigstrasse they turned. At this time, before the news was known, the street was deserted. Up the center ofit the man went, his saber scraping along the asphalt, the horse alwaysfollowing. 

Voici le sabre de mon pere! Tu vas le mettre a ton cote! Apres lavictoire, j'espere Te revoir en bonne sante. .. .. 

The street lamps swayed; sometimes a dozen revolved on one post, andMaurice would stop long enough to laugh. How easy it was to walk! Allhe had to do was to lift a foot, and the pavement would rise to meet it. The moon, standing high behind him, cast a long, weird shadow, and hestaggered after it and cut at it with the saber. It was only when he sawthe lights of the royal palace and the great globes on the gate poststhat sanity returned. This sanity was of short duration. 

"To the palace!" he cried; "to the palace! To warn her!" And he stumbledagainst the gates, still calling, "To the palace! To the palace!"

The cuirassiers who had been left behind to protect the inmates of thepalace, were first aroused by the yelling and singing of the students. They rushed out of the guard room and came running to the gates, whichthey opened. The body of a man rolled inside. They stopped and examinedhim; the uniform was theirs. The face they looked into was that of thehandsome young foreigner who, that day, had gone forth from the city, agay and gallant figure, who sat his horse so well that he earned theiradmiration. What could this mean? And where were the others? Had therebeen a desperate battle?

"Run back to the guard room, one of you, and fetch some brandy. Helives. " And Lieutenant Scharfenstein took his hand from the insensibleman's heart. Pulsation was there, but weak and intermittent. "Sergeant, take ten men and clear the square. If they refuse to leave, kill! Madameis not yet queen by any means. "

The men scattered. One soon returned with the brandy. Scharfensteinmoistened the wounded man's lips and placed his palm under the nose. Shortly Maurice opened his eyes, his half-delirious eyes. 

"To the palace!" he said, "to the palace--Ah!" He saw the faces staringdown at him. He struggled. Instinctively they all stood back. Whatseemed incredible to them, he got to his knees, from his knees to hisfeet, and propped himself against a gate post. "Your life or mine!"he cried. "Come on; a man can die but once!" He lunged, and again theyretreated. He laughed. "It was a good fight!" He reeled off toward thepalace steps. They did not hinder him, but they followed, expectingeach moment to see him fall. But, he fell not. One by one he mountedthe steps, steadying himself with the saber. He gained the landing, oncemore steadied himself, and vanished into the palace. 

"He is out of his head!" cried Scharfenstein, rushing up the steps. "Godknows what has happened!"

He was in time to see Maurice lurch into the arms of Captain von Mitter, who had barred the way to the private apartments. 

"Carewe!. .. What has happened? God's name, you are soaked in blood!" VonMitter held Maurice at arm's length. "A battle?"

"Aye, a battle; one man is dead and another soon will be!" A transientlucidity beamed in Maurice's eyes. "We were betrayed by the nativetroops; they ran to meet Madame. .. . Marshal Kampf, Prince Frederick, andthe cuirassiers are prisoners. .. . I escaped. Beauvais, gave chase. .. . Wanted to kill me. .. . He gave me this. I ran him through the throat. .. . Knew him in South America. .. . He's dead! Inform the archbishop and herHighness that Madame is nearing the city. The king--"

"Hush!" said von Mitter, with a finger on his lip; "hush! The king diedat six o'clock. God rest his soul!" He crossed himself. "A disgracefulday! Curse the scheming woman, could she not let us bury him in peace?Prince Frederick's father refused to send us aid. "

"I am dying, " said Maurice with a sob. "Let me lie down somewhere; if Ifall I am a dead man. " After a pause: "Take me into the throne room. Ishall last till Madame comes. Let her find me there. .. . The brandy!"

Scharfenstein held the flask to the sufferer's lips. 

"The throne room?" repeated von Mitter, surprised at this strangerequest. "Well, why not? For what is a throne when there is no king tosit on it? You will not die, my friend, though the cut is a nasty one. What is an arm? Life is worth a thousand of them! Quick! help me withhim, Max!" for Maurice was reaching blindly toward him. 

The three troopers who had followed Scharfenstein came up, and the fiveof them managed to carry Maurice into the throne room, and deposit himon the cushions at the foot of the dais. There they left him. 

"Bad!" said von Mitter, as he came limping out into the corridor. "Andhe made such a brave show when he left here this afternoon. I have grownto love the fellow. A gallant man. I knew that the native troops were upto something. So did the Colonel. Ach! I would give a year of my lifeto have seen him and Beauvais. To kill Beauvais, the best saber in thekingdom--it must have been a fight worthy of the legends. A bad day!They will laugh at us. But, patience, the archbishop has something tosay before the curtain falls. Poor young man! He will lose his arm, ifnot his life. "

"But how comes he into all this?" asked Scharfenstein, perplexedly. 

"It is not for me or you to question, Max, " said von Mitter, lookingdown. He had his own opinion, but he was not minded to disclose it. 

"What are you going to do?"

"Perform my duty until the end, " sourly. "Go you and help against thestudents, who have not manliness enough even to respect the dead. Thecowardly servants are all gone; save the king's valet. There are onlyseven of us in all. I will seek the king's physician; the dead are dead, so let us concern ourselves with the living;" and he limped off towardthe private apartments. 

Scharfenstein hurried away to the square. 

In the royal bedchamber a girl murmured over a cold hand. "God pity me;I am all, all alone!"

The archbishop was kneeling at the foot of the bed. In his heart was thebitterness of loss and defeat. His dreams of greatness for this clay!The worldly pomp which was to have attended it! Life was but a warmbreath on the mirror of eternity; for one the mirror was clear again. 

The square soon grew quiet; the students and the cuirassiers had met forthe last time. In the throne room shadows and silence prevailed. Maurice lay upon the cushions, the hilt of the saber still in his hand. Consciousness had returned, a clear, penetrating consciousness. At thefoot of the throne, he thought, and, mayhap, close to one not visibleto the human eye! What a checkerboard he had moved upon, and now thecheckmate! So long as the pain did not diminish, he was content; asudden ease was what he dreaded. Life was struggling to retain its hold. He did not wish to die; he was young; there were long years to come; theworld was beautiful, and to love was the glory over it all. He wonderedif Beauvais still lay in the road where he had left him. Again he couldsee that red saber swinging high; and he shivered. 

Half an hour passed, then came the distant murmur of voices, whichexpanded into tumult. The victorious army, the brave and gallant army, had entered the city, and was streaming toward the palaces. Huzzas roseamid the blaring of bugles. The timorous came forth and added to thenoise. The conquerors trooped into the palace, and Madame the duchesslooked with shining eyes at the throne of her forefathers. 

CHAPTER XXVII. WORMWOOD AND LEES

Madame, like a statue of expectancy, riveted her gaze on the throne. Hers at last! Her dreams were realized. She was no longer a duchess bypatent; she was a queen by right of inheritance; she was now to be apower among the great. The kingdom of her forefathers was hers. She hadreached the goal without bloodshed; she had been patient, and this washer reward. The blaze of her ambition dimmed all other stars. Her bosomheaved, triumph flashed in her beautiful eyes, and a smile partedher lips. Her first thought had been to establish headquarters inthe parlors of the Continental Hotel, and from there to summon thearchbishop, as a conqueror summons the chief of the vanquished. But no;she could not wait; above all things she desired the satisfaction of theeye. The throne of her forefathers!

"Mine!" she murmured. 

Over her shoulders peered eager faces, in which greed and pleasure andimpassibility were written. One face, however, had on it the dull red ofshame. Not until now did the full force of his intended dishonestycome home to the Englishman; not until now did he realize the completedegradation to which his uniform had lowered him. His had been the handto stay this misfortune, and he had not lifted it. This king had beenhis father's friend; and he had taken up arms against him. O, he hadbegun life badly; he was making the end still more dismal. Would thiswoman ever be his? Her promises were not worth the air that had carriedthem to his ear. He, the consort of a queen? A cold sweat dampened hisforehead. How he loved her! And that kiss. .. . Queen or not, he would notbe her dupe, his would not be a tame surrender. 

From the Platz and the Park, where the two armies had bivouacked, camean intermittent cheering. The flames of bonfires were reflected on thewindows, throwing out in dull, yellow relief the faces of Madame and herstaff. 

Between the private apartments of the king and the throne room wasa wide sliding door. Suddenly this opened and closed. With his backagainst it, a pistol in one hand and a saber in the other, stood Captainvon Mitter, his face cold and resolute. All eyes were instantly directedtoward him. 

"Captain, " said Madame, imperiously, "summon to me Monseigneur thearchbishop!"

Her command fell on ears of stone. Von Mitter made no sign that he heardher. 

"Take care, Monsieur, " she warned; "I am mistress here. If you will notobey me, my officers will. "

"Madame, I acknowledge no mistress save the daughter of the king. No oneshall pass this door to announce your presence to Monseigneur. "

This reply was greeted with sundry noises, such as sabers coming fromscabbards, clicking of pistol locks, and the moving of feet. Madameput out her hand suggestively, and the noise ceased. Von Mitter smileddisdainfully, but did not stir. 

"I warn you, Madame, " he said, "that this is war. I accept all theresponsibilities of my position. I know nothing of any surrender orvictory. To me you are simply an enemy. I will kill any one who attemptsto pass. I should be pleased if General Kronau would make the first stepto question my sincerity. "

Kronau's fingers twitched around his revolver, but Madame touched hisarm. She could read faces. The young Captain was in earnest. She wouldtemporize. 

"Captain, all here are prisoners of war, " she said. "Do not forget thatsoon there will be benefits for those who serve me. "

He laughed rudely. "I ask no benefits from your hands, Madame. I wouldrather stand on the corner and beg. " He sent an insolent, contemptuousglance at Kronau, who could not support it. "And now that you havegratified your curiosity, I beg you to withdraw to the street. To-nightthis palace is a tomb, and woe to those who commit sacrilege. "

"The king?" she said, struck by a thought which caused a red spot toappear on each cheek. 

"Is dead. Go and leave us in peace. "

The wine which had tasted so sweet was full of lees, and the cupwormwood. Madame looked down, while her officers moved uneasily andglanced over their shoulders. Kronau brushed his forehead, to find itwet. Madame regretted the surrendering to the impulse. Her haste totriumph was lacking both in dignity and judgment. She had given the kingso little place in her thoughts that the shock of his death confusedher. And there was something in the calm, fearless contempt of the youngsoldier which embarrassed her. 

"In that case, Captain, " she said, her voice uncertain and constrained, "bid Monseigneur to wait on me at the Continental. "

"Whenever that becomes convenient, Madame, Monseigneur will certainlyconfer with you and your rascally pack of officers. " He longed for someone to spring at him; he longed to strike a blow in earnest. 

As he leaned against the door he felt it move. He stepped aside. The door rolled back, and her Royal Highness, the archbishop and thechancellor passed in. The princess's eyes were like dim stars, buther fine nostrils palpitated, and her mouth was rigid in disdain. Thechancellor looked haggard and dispirited, and he eyed all with thelistlessness of a man who has given up hope. The prelate's face was asfinely drawn as an ancient cameo, and as immobile. He gazed at Madamewith one of those looks which penetrate like acid; and, brave as shewas, she found it insupportable. There was a tableau of short duration. 

"Madame, " said her Royal Highness, with a noble scorn, "what would yousay if one desecrated your father's tomb while you were kneeling besideit? What would you say? In yonder room my father lies dead, and yourpresence here, in whatever role, is an insult. Are you, indeed, a woman?Have you no respect for death and sorrow? Was the bauble so precious toyour sight that you could not wait till the last rites were paid tothe dead? Is your heart of stone, your mind devoid of pity and ofconscience? Are you lacking in magnanimity, which is the disposition ofgreat souls? Ah, Madame, you will never be great, for you have stoopedto treachery and deceit. You, a princess! You have purchased withglittering promises that which in time would have been given to you. And you will not fulfill these promises, for honesty has no part in youraffair. Shame on you, Madame. By dishonorable means you have gained thisroom. By dishonorable means you destroyed all those props on which myfather leaned. You knew that he had not long to live. Had you come tome as a woman; had you opened your heart to me and confided yourdesires--Ah, Madame, how gladly would I have listened. Whatever itsignifies to you, this throne is nothing to me. Had you come then--but, no! you must come to demand your rights when I am defenseless. You mustcome with a sword when there is none to defend. Is it possible that inour veins there runs a kindred blood? And yet, Madame, I forgive you. Rule here, if you will; but remember, between you and your crownthere will always be the shadow of disgrace. Monsieur, " turning towardFitzgerald, whose shame was so great that it engulfed him, "your fatherand mine were friends--I forgive you. Now, Madame, I pray you, go, andleave me with my dead. "

The girlhood of Princess Alexia was gone forever. 

To Madame this rebuke was like hot iron on the flesh. It left herwithout answer. Her proud spirit writhed. Before those innocent eyes hersoul lay bare, offering to the gaze an ineffaceable scar. For thefirst time she saw her schemes in their true light. Had any served herunselfishly? Aye, there was one. And strangely enough, the first thoughtwhich formed in her mind when chaos was passed, was of him. 

How would this rebuke affect her in his eyes? What was he to her thatshe cared for his respect, his opinion, good or bad? What was themeaning of the secret dread? How she hated him for his honesty to her;for now perforce she must look up to him. She had stepped down fromthe pinnacle of her pride to which she might never again ascend. Hehad kissed her. How she hated him! And yet. .. Ah, the wine was flat, tinctured with the bitterness of gall, and her own greed had forced thecup to her lips. She could not remain silent before this girl; she mustreply; her shame was too deep to resolve itself into silence. 

"Mademoiselle, " she said, "I beg of you to accept my sympathies; but thefortunes of war--"

"Ah, Madame, " interrupted the prelate, lifting his white, attenuatedhand, "we will discuss the fortunes of war--later. "

Madame choked back the sudden gust of rage. She glanced covertly at theEnglishman. But he, with wide-astonished eyes, was staring at the footof the throne, from which gradually rose a terrible figure, covered withblood and caked with drying clay. The figure leaned heavily on the hiltof a saber, and swayed unsteadily. He drew all eyes. 

"Ha!" he said, with a prolonged, sardonic intonation, "is that you, Madame the duchess? You are talking of war? What! and you, my lord theEnglishman? Ha! and war? Look at me, Madame; I have been in a battle, the only one fought to-day. Look at me! Here is the mark of that friendwho watched over your interests. But where is he? Eh? Where? Did youpick him up on the way?. .. . He is dead. For all that he was a rascal, he died like a man. .. . . As presently I shall die! Princes and kings andthrones; the one die and the other crumble, but truth lives on. And you, Madame, have learned the truth. Shame on your mean and little souls!There was only one honest man among you, and you dishonored him. TheMarshal. .. I do not see him. An honest man dies but once, but a traitordies a thousand deaths. Kronau. .. Is that your name? It was anhonest one once. And the paltry ends you gain!. .. . The grand duchessof Gerolstein!. .. . What a comic opera! Not even music to go by! Eh, you, --you Englishman, has Madame made you a Lieutenant?--a Captain?--aGeneral? What a farce! Nobles, you? I laugh at you all for a pack ofthieves, who are not content with the purse, but must add honor to thebag. A man is what he makes himself. Medals and clothes, medals andclothes; that is the sum of your nobility!" He laughed, but the laughterchoked in his throat, and he staggered a few paces away from the throne. 

"Seize him!" cried Madame. 

When the men sprang forward to execute this command, Fitzgerald barredthe way. 

"No, " he said doggedly; "you shall not touch him. "

"Stand aside, Monsieur, " said Madame, determined to vent her rage onsome one. 

"Madame, " said von Mitter, "I will shoot down the first man who lays ahand on Monsieur Carewe. "

The princess, her heart beating wildly at the sudden knowledge that laywritten on the inner vision, a faintness stealing away her sight, leanedback against the prelate. 

"He is dying, " she whispered; "he is dying for me!"

Maurice was now in the grasp of the final delirium. "Come on!" he cried;"come on! I will show you how a brave man can die. Come on, MessieursMedals and Clothes! Aye, who will go out with me?" He raised the saber, and it caught the flickering light as it trailed a circle above hishead. He stumbled toward them, sweeping the air with the blade. Suddenlythere came a change. He stopped. The wild expression faded from hisface; a surprised look came instead. The saber slipped from his fingersand clanged on the floor. He turned and looked at the princess, and thatglance conveyed to her the burden of his love. "Mademoiselle. .. . " Hisknees doubled, he sank, rolled face downward, and a dark stain appearedand widened on the marble floor. 

"Go, Madame, " said the prelate. "This palace is indeed a tomb. " He feltthe princess grow limp on his arm. "Go. "

"Maurice!" cried Fitzgerald, springing to the side of the fallen man. "My God! Maurice!"

CHAPTER XXVIII. INTO THE HANDS OF AUSTRIA

Madame, surrounded by her staff and courtiers, sat in the main salonof the Continental Hotel, waiting for the archbishop. The false, self-seeking ministers of Leopold's reign crowded around her to paytheir respects, to compliment and to flatter her. Already they saw abrilliant court; already they were speculating on their appointments. Offices were plenty; new embassies were to be created, old embassies tobe filled anew. 

Madame listened to all coldly. There was a canker in her heart, and noone who saw that calm, beautiful face of hers dreamed how deeply thecanker was eating. There were two men who held aloof from complimentsand flattery. On the face of one rested a moody scowl; on the other, agony and remorse. These two men were Colonel Mollendorf and LordFitzgerald. The same thought occupied each mind; the scene in the throneroom. 

Presently an orderly announced: "Monseigneur the archbishop. "

Madame arose, and all looked expectantly, toward the door. 

The old prelate entered, his head high and his step firm. He appearedto see no one but Madame. But this time she met his glance without atremor. 

"Monseigneur, " she began, "I have come into my own at last. But for youand your ambitious schemes, all this would not have come to pass. Yourobbed my father of his throne and set your puppet there instead. Bytrickery my father was robbed of his lawful inheritance. By trickery Iwas compelled to regain it. However, I do not wish to make an enemy ofyou, Monseigneur. I have here two letters. They come from Rome. In oneis your recall, in the other a cardinal's hat. Which do you prefer?"

"Surely not the cardinal's hat, " said the prelate. "Listen to me, Madame, for I have something to say to you which will cause you somereflection. If I had any ambitions, they are gone; if I had any dreams, they have vanished. Madame, some twenty years ago your duchy wascreated. It was not done to please Albrecht's younger brother, the duke, your father. Albrecht was childless. When your father was given theduchy it was done to exclude forever the house of Auersperg fromreigning on this throne. You say that you were tricked; well, and so wasI. Unhappily I touched the deeper current too late. 

"This poor king, who lies silent in the palace, was not my puppet. I wished to make him great, and bask in his greatness. But in that Ifailed; because Leopold was a poet and a philosopher, and the greatnessof earthly things did not concern him. Leopold and I were dupes ofAustria, as you are at this moment, Madame. So long as Leopold reignedpeacefully he was not to be disturbed. Had you shown patience andresignation, doubtless to-day you would be a queen. You will never bemore than a duchess. 

"Madame, you have done exactly as Austria intended you should. Thereis no longer any kingdom. " There was a subdued triumph in his eyes. "Toyou, " with a gesture toward the courtiers and office-seekers, "to you Ishall say, your own blind self-interest has destroyed you. Madame, youare bearing arms not against this kingdom, but against Austria, sincefrom to-day this land becomes the property of the imperial crown. If youstruggle, it will be futilely. For, by this move of yours, Austriawill declare that this kingdom is a menace to the tranquility of theconfederation. Madame, there is no corner-stone to your edifice. This iswhat I wished to say to you. I have done. Permit me to withdraw. "

For a moment his auditors were spellbound; then all the emotions of themind and heart portrayed themselves on the circle of faces. Madame'sface alone was inscrutable. 

"His Excellency, the Austrian ambassador!" announced the orderly. 

The archbishop bowed and left the apartment. 

"Your Highness, " began the Austrian, "his Imperial Majesty commands yourimmediate evacuation of Bleiberg, and that you delay not your departureto the frontier. This kingdom is a crown land. It shall remain so by theconsent of the confederation. If you refuse to obey this injunction, an army will enforce the order. Believe me, Madame, this office isdistasteful to me, but it was not avoidable. What disposition am I tosubmit to his Majesty?"

"Monsieur, " she said, "I am without choice in the matter. To pit myforces against the emperor's would be neither politic nor sensible. Isubmit. " There was not a sign of any emotion, no hint of the terriblewrath which lay below the surface of those politely modulated tones. Butit seemed to her as she stood there, the object of all eyes, that somepart of her soul had died. Her pride surmounted the humiliation, thepride of a woman and a princess. She would show no weakness to theworld. 

"Then, Madame, " said the ambassador, suppressing the admiration in hiseyes at this evidence of royal nonchalance, "I shall inform his Majestyat once. "

When he had gone, Madame turned coldly to her stricken followers. "Messieurs, the fortunes of war are not on our side. I thank you foryour services. Now leave me; I wish to be alone. "

One by one they filed out into the corridors. The orderly was the lastto leave, and he closed the door behind him. Madame surveyed the room. All the curtains were drawn. She was alone. She stood idly fingering thepapers which lay scattered on the table. Suddenly she lifted her handsabove her head and clenched them in a burst of silent rage. A dupe!doubly a dupe! To-morrow the whole world would laugh at her, and she waswithout means of wreaking vengeance. Presently the woman rose above theprincess. She sat down, laid her face on her arms and wept. 

Fitzgerald stepped from behind one of the curtains. He had taken refugethere during the archbishop's speech. He had not the strength to witnessthe final humiliation of the woman he loved. He was gazing out of thewindow at the troops in the Platz when the door closed. 

Madame heard the rustle of the curtain and looked up. She sprang to herfeet, her eyes blazing. 

"You?" she cried. "You? You have dared to hide that you might witness myweakness and my tears? You. .. . "

"Madame!"

"Go! I hate you!"

"Ah, Madame, we always hate those whom we have wronged. Do not forgetthat I love you, with a love that passes convention. "

"Monsieur, I am yet a princess. Did you not hear me bid you go?"

"Why?" in a voice singularly free from agitation. "Because I am the onlyman who has served you unselfishly? Is that the reason, Madame? You havelaughed at me. I love you. You have broken me. I love you. I can neverlook an honest man in the face again. I love you. Though the shade ofmy father should rise to accuse me, still would I say that I love you. Madame, will you find another love like mine, the first love of a manwho will know no second? Forgive me if I rejoice in your despair, foryour despair is my hope. As a queen you would be too far away; but inyour misfortune you come so near! Madame, I shall follow you whereveryou go to tell you that I love you. You will never be able to shut yourears to my voice; far or near, you will always hear me saying that Ilove you. Ambition soars but a little way; love has no fetters. Madame, your lips were given to me. Can you forget that?"

"Monsieur, what do you wish?" subdued by the fervor of his tones. 

"You! nothing in the world but you. "

"Princesses such as I am do not wed for love. What! you take advantageof my misfortune, the shattering of my dreams, to force your love uponme?"

"Madame, " the pride of his race lighting his eyes, "confess to me thatyou did not win my love to play with it. If my heart was necessary toyour happiness, which lay in these shattered dreams, tell me, and I willgo. My love is so great that it does not lack generosity. "

For reply she sorted the papers and extended a blood-stained packettoward him. "Here, Monsieur, are your consols. " But the moment his handtouched them, she made as though to take them back. On the top ofthe packet was the letter she had written to him, and on which he hadwritten his scornful reply to her. She paled as she saw him unfold it. 

"So, Madame, my love was a pastime?" He came close to her, and his lookwas like an invisible hand bearing down on her. "Madame, I will go. "

"No, no!" she cried, yielding to the impulse which suddenly laid holdof her. "Not you! You shall not misjudge me. No, not you! Those consolswere given to me by the woman of your guide, Kopf, who found them no oneknows how. They were given to me this morning. That letter. .. .. I didnot intend that you should see it. No, Monsieur; you shall not misjudgethe woman, however you judge the princess. Forgive me, it was not thewoman who sought your love; it was the princess who had need of it. 

"I thought it would be but a passing fancy. I did not dream of this end. To-morrow I shall be laughed at, and I cannot defend myself as a mancan. I must submit; I must smile and cover my chagrin. O, Monsieur, do not speak to me of love; there is nothing in my heart but rage andbitterness. To stoop as I have stooped, and in vain! I am defeated; Imust remain passive; like a whipped child I am driven away. Talk not oflove to me. I am without illusion. " She fell to weeping, and to him shewas lovelier in her tears than ever in her smiles. For would she haveshown this weakness to any but himself, and was it not a sign that hewas not wholly indifferent to her?

"Madame, what is it?" he cried, on his knees before her. "What is it? Doyou wish a crown? Find me a kingdom, and I will buy it for you. Be mine, and woe to those who dare to laugh! Ah, could I but convince you thatlove is above crowns and kingdoms, the only glimpse we have on earthof Paradise. There is no boundary to the dreams; no horizons; a vast, beautiful wilderness, and you and I together. There are no storms, noclouds. Ambition, the god of schemes, finds no entrance. Ah, how I loveyou! Your face is ever before me, waking or sleeping. All thoughtsare merged into one, and that is of you. Self has dropped out of myexistence. Forget that you are a princess; remember only that you are awoman, and that I love you. "

Love has the key to eloquence. Madame forgot her vanished dreams; thebitterness in her heart subsided. That mysterious, indefinable thrill, which every woman experiences when a boundless love is laid at her feet, passed through her, leaving her sensible to a delicious languor. Thisman was strong in himself, yet weak before her, and from his weaknessshe gained a visible strength. Convention was nothing to him; that shewas of royal blood was still less. What other man would have dared herwrath as he had done?

Nobility, she thought, was based on the observance of certain laws. Around the central star were lesser stars, from which the central stardrew its radiance. Whenever one of these stars deviates from its orbit, the glory of the central star is diminished. To accept the love of theEnglishman would be a blow to the pride of Austria. She smiled. 

"Monsieur, " she said, in a hesitating voice, "Monsieur, I am indeed awoman. You ask me if I can forget that I offered you my lips? No. Nor doI wish to. Why did I permit you to kiss me? I do not know. I could notanalyze the impulse if I tried. Monsieur, I am a woman who demandsmuch from those who serve her. I am capricious; my moods vary; I amunfamiliar with sentiment; I hate oftener than I love. Listen. There isa canker in my heart, made there by vanity. When it heals--well--mayhapyou will find the woman you desire. Mind you, I make no promises. Follow me, if you will, but have patience; love me if you must, but insilence;" and with a gesture which was not without a certain fondness, she laid her hand upon his head. 

CHAPTER XXIX. INTO STILL WATERS AND SILENCE

Into the princess's own chamber they carried Maurice, and laid him onthe white bed. Thus would she have it. No young man had ever beforeentered that sacred chapel of her maiden dreams. Beside the bed wasa small prie-dieu; and she knelt upon the cushion and rested her browagainst the crucifix. The archbishop covered his eyes, and the statephysician bent his head. Chastity and innocence at the feet of God; yet, not even these can hold back the fleeting breath of life. She asked Godto forgive her the bitterness in her heart; she prayed for strengthto repel the weakness in her limbs. Presently she rose, an angelicsweetness on her face. She looked down at Maurice; there was no sign oflife, save in the fitful drawing in of the nether lip. She dampened acloth and wiped the sweat of agony from the marble brow. 

"O, if only he might live!" she cried. "And he will not?"

"No, your Highness, " said the physician. "He has perhaps an hour. Extraordinary vitality alone is the cause of his living so long. He haslost nearly all the blood in his body. It was a frightful wound. He isdying, but he may return to consciousness before the end. "

The archbishop, with somber eyes, contemplated the pale, handsome face, which lay motionless against the pillow. His thoughts flew back to hisown youth, to the long years which had filled the gap between. Friendshad come and gone, loved ones vanished; and still he stood, like an oakin the heart of a devastated forest, alone. Why had he been spared, and to what end? Ah, how old he was, how very old! To live beyond theallotted time, was not that a punishment for some transgression? Hiseyes shone through a mist of tears. 

The princess, too, contemplated the face of the dying man. How manytimes had that face accompanied her in her dreams! How familiar she waswith every line of it, the lips, that turned inward when they smiled;the certain lock of hair that fell upon the forehead! And yet, shehad seen the face in reality less than half a dozen times. Why had itentered so persistently into her dreams? Why had the flush risen to hercheeks at the thought? At another time she would have refused to listento the voice which answered; but now, as the object of her thoughtslay dying on her pillow, her mind would not play truant to her heart. Sometimes the approach of love is so imperceptible that it does notprovoke analysis. We wake suddenly to find it in our hearts, so strongand splendid that we submit without question. .. . All, all her dreams hadvanished, the latest and the fairest. Across the azure of her youthhad come and gone a vague, beautiful flash of love. The door of earthlyparadise had opened and closed. That delicate string which vibrates withthe joy of living seemed parted; her heart was broken, and her youngbreast a tomb. With straining eyes she continued to gaze. The invisiblearms of her love clasped Maurice to her heart and held him there. Onlythat day he had stood before her, a delight to the eye; and she hadgiven him her hand to kiss. How bravely he had gone forth from the city!She had followed him with her ardent gaze until he was no longer to beseen. And now he lay dying. .. . For her. 

"Monsieur, " she said, turning to the physician, "I have something to sayto Monseigneur. "

The physician bowed and passed into the boudoir, the door of which heclosed. 

"Father, " she said to the prelate, "I have no secrets from you. " Shepointed to Maurice. "I love him. I know not why. He comes from a foreignland; his language nor his people are mine, and yet the thought of himhas filled my soul. I have talked to him but four different times; andyet I love him. Why? I can not tell. The mind has no power to rule theimpulse of love. Were he to live, perhaps my love would be a sin. Is itnot strange, father, that I love him? I have lost parental love; I amlosing a love a woman holds priceless above all others. He is dyingbecause of me. He loves me. I read it in his eyes just before he fell. Perhaps it is better for him and for me that he should die, for if helived I could not live without him. Father, do I sin?"

"No, my child, " and the prelate closed his eyes. 

"I have been so lonely, " she said, "so alone. I craved the love of theyoung. He was so different from any man I had met before. His bright, handsome face seemed constantly with me. "

At this moment Maurice's breast rose and fell in a long sigh. Presentlythe lids of his eyes rolled upward. Consciousness had returned. Hiswandering gaze first encountered the sad, austere visage of the prelate. 

"Monseigneur?" he said, faintly. 

"Do you wish absolution, my son?"

"I am dying. .. ?"

"Yes. "

"I am dying. .. . God has my account and he will judge it. I am not aCatholic, Monseigneur. " He turned his head. "Your Highness?" He rovedabout the room with his eyes and discerned the feminine touch in all theappointments. 

"Where am I?"

"You are in my room, Monsieur, " she said. Her voice broke, but she methis eyes with a brave smile. "Is there anything we can do for you?"

"Nothing. I am alone. To die. .. . Well, one time or another. And yet, itis a beautiful world, when we but learn it, full of color and life andlove. I am young; I do not wish to die. And now. .. Even in the midst. .. To go. .. Where? Monseigneur, I am dying; to me princes and kings signifynothing. That is not to say that they ever did. In the presence of deathwe are all equal. Living, I might not speak; dying. .. Since I have but alittle while to stay. .. I may speak?"

"Yes, my son, speak. Her Highness will listen. "

"It is to her Highness that I wish to speak. "

Her lips quivered and she made no secret of her tears. "What is it youwish to say to me, Monsieur Carewe?" She smoothed his forehead, and thetouch of her hand made him forget his pain. 

"Ah, I know not how to begin, " he said. "Forgive me if I offend yourears. .. . I have been foolish even to dream of it, but I could not helpit. .. . When first I saw you in the garden. . The old dog was besideyou. .. . Even then it came to me that my future was linked to the thoughtof you. I did not know you were so far beyond. .. . I was very cold, butI dared not let you know it, for fear you would lead me at once to thegate. That night wherever I looked I saw you. I strove to think of someway to serve you, but I could not. I was so obscure. I never thoughtthat you would remember me again; but you did. .. That afternoon in thecarriage. .. I wanted to tell you then. That rose you dropped. .. It isstill on my heart. I loved you, and to this end. And I am glad to die, for in this short fortnight I have lived. .. . My mother used to call meMaurice . .. To hear a woman repeat it again before I go. "

"Maurice. " She took his hand timidly in hers, and looked at thearchbishop. 

"Speak to him from your heart, my child, " said the prelate. "It willcomfort you both. "

Suddenly she drooped and the tears fell upon the hand in hers. "Maurice, " she whispered, "you have not loved in vain. " She could utterno more; but she raised her head and looked into his eyes, and he sawthe glory of the world in hers. 

"Into still waters and silence, " he said softly. "No more pain, nor joy, nor love; silence. .. . You love me!. .. Alexia; how often have I repeatedthat name to myself. .. . I have not strength to lift your hand to mylips. "

She kissed him on the lips. She felt as if she, too, were dying. 

"God guard your Highness, " he said. "It is dark. .. . I do not see you. .. . "

He tried to raise himself, but he could not. He sank back, settleddeeply into the pillow, and smiled. After that he lay very still.