THE PORT OF MISSING MEN

by

MEREDITH NICHOLSON

Author of _The House of a Thousand Candles_, _The Main Chance_, _Zelda Dameron_, etc. 

1907

Then Sir Pellinore put off his armour; then a little afore midnight theyheard the trotting of an horse. Be ye still, said King Pellinore, for weshall hear of some adventure. --Malory. 

To the Memory of Herman Kountze

THE SHINING ROAD

Come, sweetheart, let us ride away beyond the city's bound, And seek what pleasant lands across the distant hills are found. There is a golden light that shines beyond the verge of dawn, And there are happy highways leading on and always on;So, sweetheart, let us mount and ride, with never a backward glance, To find the pleasant shelter of the Valley of Romance. 

Before us, down the golden road, floats dust from charging steeds, Where two adventurous companies clash loud in mighty deeds;And from the tower that stands alert like some tall, beckoning pine, E'en now, my heart, I see afar the lights of welcome shine!So loose the rein and cheer the steed and let us race awayTo seek the lands that lie beyond the Borders of To-day. 

Draw rein and rest a moment here in this cool vale of peace;The race half-run, the goal half-won, half won the sure release!To right and left are flowery fields, and brooks go singing downTo mock the sober folk who still are prisoned in the town. Now to the trail again, dear heart; my arm and blade are true, And on some plain ere night descend I'll break a lance for you!

O sweetheart, it is good to find the pathway shining clear!The road is broad, the hope is sure, and you are near and dear!So loose the rein and cheer the steed and let us race awayTo seek the lands that lie beyond the borders of To-day. Oh, we shall hear at last, my heart, a cheering welcome criedAs o'er a clattering drawbridge through the Gate of Dreams we ride!

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I "Events, Events" II The Claibornes, of Washington III Dark Tidings IV John Armitage a Prisoner V A Lost Cigarette Case VI Toward the Western Stars VII On the Dark Deck VIII "The King Is Dead; Long Live the King" IX "This Is America, Mr. Armitage" X John Armitage Is Shadowed XI The Toss of a Napkin XII A Camp in the Mountains XIII The Lady of the Pergola XIV An Enforced Interview XV Shirley Learns a Secret XVI Narrow Margins XVII A Gentleman in Hiding XVIII An Exchange of Messages XIX Captain Claiborne on Duty XX The First Ride Together XXI The Comedy of a Sheepfold XXII The Prisoner at the Bungalow XXIII The Verge of Morning XXIV The Attack in the Road XXV The Port of Missing Men XXVI "Who Are You, John Armitage?" XXVII Decent BurialXXVIII John Armitage

CHAPTER I

"EVENTS, EVENTS"

Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his backWherein he puts alms for oblivion. --_Troilus and Cressida. _

"The knowledge that you're alive gives me no pleasure, " growled the grimold Austrian premier. 

"Thank you!" laughed John Armitage, to whom he had spoken. "You have lostnone of your old amiability; but for a renowned diplomat, you areremarkably frank. When I called on you in Paris, a year ago, I was ableto render you--I believe you admitted it--a slight service. "

Count Ferdinand von Stroebel bowed slightly, but did not take his eyesfrom the young man who sat opposite him in his rooms at the Hotel MonteRosa in Geneva. On the table between them stood an open despatch box, andabout it lay a number of packets of papers which the old gentleman, withcharacteristic caution, had removed to his own side of the table beforeadmitting his caller. He was a burly old man, with massive shoulders anda great head thickly covered with iron-gray hair. 

He trusted no one, and this accounted for his presence in Geneva inMarch, of the year 1903, whither he had gone to receive the report of thesecret agents whom he had lately despatched to Paris on an errand ofpeculiar delicacy. The agents had failed in their mission, and VonStroebel was not tolerant of failure. Perhaps if he had known that withina week the tapers would burn about his bier in Saint Stephen's Cathedral, at Vienna, while his life and public services would be estimated invarying degrees of admiration or execration by the newspapers of Europe, he might not have dealt so harshly with his hard-worked spies. 

It was not often that the light in the old man's eyes was as gentle asnow. He had sent his secret agents away and was to return to Vienna onthe following day. The young man whom he now entertained in hisapartments received his whole attention. He picked up the card which layon the table and scrutinized it critically, while his eyes lighted withsudden humor. 

The card was a gentleman's _carte de visite_, and bore the name JohnArmitage. 

"I believe this is the same alias you were using when I saw you in Paris. Where did you get it?" demanded the minister. 

"I rather liked the sound of it, so I had the cards made, " replied theyoung man. "Besides, it's English, and I pass readily for an Englishman. I have quite got used to it. "

"Which is not particularly creditable; but it's probably just as wellso. "

He drew closer to the table, and his keen old eyes snapped with theintentness of his thought. The hands he clasped on the table were thoseof age, and it was pathetically evident that he folded them to hide theirslight palsy. 

"I hope you are quite well, " said Armitage kindly. 

"I am not. I am anything but well. I am an old man, and I have had norest for twenty years. "

"It is the penalty of greatness. It is Austria's good fortune that youhave devoted yourself to the affairs of government. I have read--onlyto-day, in the _Contemporary Review_--an admirable tribute to yoursagacity in handling the Servian affair. Your work was masterly. Ifollowed it from the beginning with deepest interest. "

The old gentleman bowed half-unconsciously, for his thoughts were faraway, as the vague stare in his small, shrewd eyes indicated. 

"But you are here for rest--one comes to Geneva at this season fornothing else. "

"What brings you here?" asked the old man with sudden energy. "If thepapers you gave me in Paris are forgeries and you are waiting--"

"Yes; assuming that, what should I be waiting for?"

"If you are waiting for events--for events! If you expect something tohappen!"

Armitage laughed at the old gentleman's earnest manner, asked if he mightsmoke, and lighted a cigarette. 

"Waiting doesn't suit me. I thought you understood that. I was not bornfor the waiting list. You see, I have strong hands--and my wits are--letus say--average!"

Von Stroebel clasped his own hands together more firmly and bent towardArmitage searchingly. 

"Is it true"--he turned again and glanced about--"is it positively truethat the Archduke Karl is dead?"

"Yes; quite true. There is absolutely no doubt of it, " said Armitage, meeting the old man's eyes steadily. 

"The report that he is still living somewhere in North America ispersistent. We hear it frequently in Vienna; I have heard it since youtold me that story and gave me those papers in Paris last year. "

"I am aware of that, " replied John Armitage; "but I told you the truth. He died in a Canadian lumber camp. We were in the north hunting--you mayrecall that he was fond of that sort of thing. "

"Yes, I remember; there was nothing else he did so well, " growled VonStroebel. 

"And the packet I gave you--"

The old man nodded. 

"--that packet contained the Archduke Karl's sworn arraignment of hiswife. It is of great importance, indeed, to Francis, his worthless son, or supposed son, who may present himself for coronation one of thesedays!"

"Not with Karl appearing in all parts of the world, never quite dead, never quite alive--and his son Frederick Augustus lurking with him in theshadows. Who knows whether they are dead?"

"I am the only person on earth in a position to make that clear, " saidJohn Armitage. 

"Then you should give me the documents. "

"No; I prefer to keep them. I assure you that I have sworn proof of thedeath of the Archduke Karl, and of his son Frederick Augustus. Thosepapers are in a box in the Bronx Loan and Trust Company, in New YorkCity. "

"I should have them; I _must_ have them!" thundered the old man. 

"In due season; but not just now. In fact, I have regretted parting withthat document I gave you in Paris. It is safer in America than in Vienna. If you please, I should like to have it again, sir. "

The palsy in the old man's hands had increased, and he strove to controlhis agitation; but fear had never been reckoned among his weaknesses, andhe turned stormily upon Armitage. 

"That packet is lost, I tell you!" he blurted, as though it weresomething that he had frequently explained before. "It was stolen fromunder my very nose only a month ago! That's what I'm here for--my agentsare after the thief, and I came to Geneva to meet them, to find out whythey have not caught him. Do you imagine that I travel for pleasure at myage, Mr. John Armitage?"

Count von Stroebel's bluster was merely a cloak to hide his confusion--acloak, it may be said, to which he did not often resort; but in this casehe watched Armitage warily. He clearly expected some outburst ofindignation from the young man, and he was unfeignedly relieved whenArmitage, after opening and closing his eyes quickly, reached for a freshcigarette and lighted it with the deft ease of habit. 

"The packet has been stolen, " he observed calmly; "whom do you suspect oftaking it?"

The old man leaned upon the table heavily. 

"That amiable Francis--"

"The suggestion is not dismaying. Francis would not know an opportunityif it offered. "

"But his mother--she is the devil!" blurted the old man. 

"Pray drop that, " said Armitage in a tone that caused the old man to lookat him with a new scrutiny. "I want the paper back for the very reasonthat it contains that awful indictment of her. I have been uncomfortableever since I gave it to you; and I came to ask you for it that I mightkeep it safe in my own hands. But the document is lost, --am I tounderstand that Francis has it?"

"Not yet! But Rambaud has it, and Rambaud and Francis are as thick asthieves. "

"I don't know Rambaud. The name is unfamiliar. "

"He has a dozen names--one for every capital. He even operates inWashington, I have heard. He's a blackmailer, who aims high--a broker insecrets, a scandal-peddler. He's a bad lot, I tell you. I've had my bestmen after him, and they've just been here to report another failure. Ifyou have nothing better to do--" began the old man. 

"Yes; that packet must be recovered, " answered Armitage. "If your agentshave failed at the job it may be worth my while to look for it. "

His quiet acceptance of the situation irritated the minister. 

"You entertain me, John Armitage! You speak of that packet as though itwere a pound of tea. Francis and his friends, Winkelried and Rambaud, arenot chasers of fireflies, I would have you know. If the Archduke and hisson are dead, then a few more deaths and Francis would rule the Empire. "

John Armitage and Count von Stroebel stared at each other in silence. 

"Events! Events!" muttered the old man presently, and he rested one ofhis hands upon the despatch box, as though it were a symbol of authorityand power. 

"Events!" the young man murmured. 

"Events!" repeated Count von Stroebel without humor. "A couple of deathsand there you see him, on the ground and quite ready. Karl was a genius, therefore he could not be king. He threw away about five hundred years ofwork that had been done for him by other people--and he cajoled you intosharing his exile. You threw away your life for him! Bah! But you seemsane enough!"

The prime minister concluded with his rough burr; and Armitage laughedoutright. 

"Why the devil don't you go to Vienna and set yourself up like agentleman?" demanded the premier. 

"Like a gentleman?" repeated Armitage. "It is too late. I should die inVienna in a week. Moreover, I _am_ dead, and it is well, when one hasattained that beatific advantage, to stay dead. "

"Francis is a troublesome blackguard, " declared the old man. "I wish toGod _he_ would form the dying habit, so that I might have a few years inpeace; but he is forever turning up in some mischief. And what can you doabout it? Can we kick him out of the army without a scandal? Don't yousuppose he could go to Budapest tomorrow and make things interesting forus if he pleased? He's as full of treason as he can stick, I tell you. "

Armitage nodded and smiled. 

"I dare say, " he said in English; and when the old statesman glared athim he said in German: "No doubt you are speaking the truth. "

"Of course I speak the truth; but this is a matter for action, and notfor discussion. That packet was stolen by intention, and not by chance, John Armitage!"

There was a slight immaterial sound in the hall, and the old primeminister slipped from German to French without changing countenance as hecontinued:

"We have enough troubles in Austria without encouraging treason. IfRambaud and his chief, Winkelried, could make a king of Francis, thebrokerage--the commission--would be something handsome; and Winkelriedand Rambaud are clever men. "

"I know of Winkelried. The continental press has given much space to himof late; but Rambaud is a new name. "

"He is a skilled hand. He is the most daring scoundrel in Europe. "

Count von Stroebel poured a glass of brandy from a silver flask andsipped it slowly. 

"I will show you the gentleman's pleasant countenance, " said theminister, and he threw open a leather portfolio and drew from it a smallphotograph which he extended to Armitage, who glanced at it carelesslyand then with sudden interest. 

"Rambaud!" he exclaimed. 

"That's his name in Vienna. In Paris he is something else. I will furnishyou a list of his _noms de guerre_. "

"Thank you. I should like all the information you care to give me; but itmay amuse you to know that I have seen the gentleman before. "

"That is possible, " remarked the old man, who never evinced surprise inany circumstances. 

"I expect to see him here within a few days. "

Count von Stroebel held up his empty glass and studied it attentively, while he waited for Armitage to explain why he expected to see Rambaud inGeneva. 

"He is interested in a certain young woman. She reached here yesterday;and Rambaud, alias Chauvenet, is quite likely to arrive within a day orso. "

"Jules Chauvenet is the correct name. I must inform my men, " said theminister. 

"You wish to arrest him?"

"You ought to know me better than that, Mr. John Armitage! Of course Ishall not arrest him! But I must get that packet. I can't have itpeddled all over Europe, and I can't advertise my business by having himarrested here. If I could catch him once in Vienna I should know what todo with him! He and Winkelried got hold of our plans in that Bulgarianaffair last year and checkmated me. He carries his wares to the bestbuyers--Berlin and St. Petersburg. So there's a woman, is there? I'vefound that there usually is!"

"There's a very charming young American girl, to be more exact. "

The old man growled and eyed Armitage sharply, while Armitage studied thephotograph. 

"I hope you are not meditating a preposterous marriage. Go back where youbelong, make a proper marriage and wait--"

"Events!" and John Armitage laughed. "I tell you, sir, that waiting isnot my _forte_. That's what I like about America; they're up and at itover there; the man who waits is lost. "

"They're a lot of swine!" rumbled Von Stroebel's heavy bass. 

"I still owe allegiance to the Schomburg crown, so don't imagine you arehitting me. But the swine are industrious and energetic. Who knows butthat John Armitage might become famous among them--in politics, infinance! But for the deplorable accident of foreign birth he might becomepresident of the United States. As it is, there are thousands of otheroffices worth getting--why not?"

"I tell you not to be a fool. You are young and--fairly clever--"

Armitage laughed at the reluctance of the count's praise. 

"Thank you, with all my heart!"

"Go back where you belong and you will have no regrets. Something mayhappen--who can tell? Events--events--if a man will watch and wait andstudy events--"

"Bless me! They organize clubs in every American village for the study ofevents, " laughed Armitage; then he changed his tone. "To be sure, theBourbons have studied events these many years--a pretty spectacle, too. "

"Carrion! Carrion!" almost screamed the old man, half-rising in his seat. "Don't mention those scavengers to me! Bah! The very thought of themmakes me sick. But"--he gulped down more of the brandy--"where and how doyou live?"

"Where? I own a cattle ranch in Montana and since the Archduke's death Ihave lived there. He carried about fifty thousand pounds to America withhim. He took care that I should get what was left when he died--and, I amalmost afraid to tell you that I have actually augmented my inheritance!Just before I left I bought a place in Virginia to be near Washingtonwhen I got tired of the ranch. "

"Washington!" snorted the count. "In due course it will be the stormcenter of the world. "

"You read the wrong American newspapers, " laughed Armitage. 

They were silent for a moment, in which each was busy with his ownthoughts; then the count remarked, in as amiable a tone as he ever used:

"Your French is first rate. Do you speak English as well?"

"As readily as German, I think. You may recall that I had an Englishtutor, and maybe I did not tell you in that interview at Paris that I hadspent a year at Harvard University. "

"What the devil did you do that for?" growled Von Stroebel. 

"From curiosity, or ambition, as you like. I was in Cambridge at the lawschool for a year before the Archduke died. That was three years ago. Iam twenty-eight, as you may remember. I am detaining you; I have no wishto rake over the past; but I am sorry--I am very sorry we can't meet onsome common ground. "

"I ask you to abandon this democratic nonsense and come back and make aman of yourself. You might go far--very far; but this democracy has holdof you like a disease. "

"What you ask is impossible. It is just as impossible now as it was whenwe discussed it in Paris last year. To sit down in Vienna and learn howto keep that leaning tower of an Empire from tumbling down like a stackof bricks--it does not appeal to me. You have spent a laborious life indefending a silly medieval tradition of government. You are using all theapparatus of the modern world to perpetuate an ideal that is as old anddead as the Rameses dynasty. Every time you use the telegraph to sendorders in an emperor's name you commit an anachronism. "

The count frowned and growled. 

"Don't talk to me like that. It is not amusing. "

"No; it is not funny. To see men like you fetching and carrying for dullkings, who would drop through the gallows or go to planting turnipswithout your brains--it does not appeal to my sense of humor or to myimagination. "

"You put it coarsely, " remarked the old man grimly. "I shall perhaps havea statue when I am gone. "

"Quite likely; and mobs will rendezvous in its shadow to march upon theroyal palaces. If I were coming back to Europe I should go in forsomething more interesting than furnishing brains for sickly kings. "

"I dare say! Very likely you would persuade them to proclaim democracyand brotherhood everywhere. "

"On the other hand, I should become king myself. "

"Don't be a fool, Mr. John Armitage. Much as you have grieved me, Ishould hate to see you in a madhouse. "

"My faculties, poor as they are, were never clearer. I repeat that if Iwere going to furnish the brains for an empire I should ride in the statecarriage myself, and not be merely the driver on the box, who keeps themiddle of the road and looks out for sharp corners. Here is a plan readyto my hand. Let me find that lost document, appear in Vienna and announcemyself Frederick Augustus, the son of the Archduke Karl! I knew both menintimately. You may remember that Frederick and I were born in the samemonth. I, too, am Frederick Augustus! We passed commonly in America asbrothers. Many of the personal effects of Karl and Augustus are in mykeeping--by the Archduke's own wish. You have spent your life studyinghuman nature, and you know as well as I do that half the world wouldbelieve my story if I said I was the Emperor's nephew. In the uneasy andunstable condition of your absurd empire I should be hailed as adiversion, and then--events, events!"

Count von Stroebel listened with narrowing eyes, and his lips moved in aneffort to find words with which to break in upon this impiousdeclaration. When Armitage ceased speaking the old man sank back andglared at him. 

"Karl did his work well. You are quite mad. You will do well to go backto America before the police discover you. "

Armitage rose and his manner changed abruptly. 

"I do not mean to trouble or annoy you. Please pardon me! Let us befriends, if we can be nothing more. "

"It is too late. The chasm is too deep. "

The old minister sighed deeply. His fingers touched the despatch box asthough by habit. It represented power, majesty and the iron game ofgovernment. The young man watched him eagerly. 

The heavy, tremulous hands of Count von Stroebel passed back and forthover the box caressingly. Suddenly he bent forward and spoke with a newand gentler tone and manner. 

"I have given my life, my whole life, as you have said, to oneservice--to uphold one idea. You have spoken of that work with contempt. History, I believe, will reckon it justly. "

"Your place is secure--no one can gainsay that, " broke in Armitage. 

"If you would do something for me--for me--do something for Austria, dosomething for my country and yours! You have wits; I dare say you havecourage. I don't care what that service may be; I don't care where or howyou perform it. I am not so near gone as you may think. I know wellenough that they are waiting for me to die; but I am in no hurry toafford my enemies that pleasure. But stop this babble of yours aboutdemocracy. _Do something for Austria_--for the Empire that I have heldhere under my hand these difficult years--then take your name again--andyou will find that kings can be as just and wise as mobs. "

"For the Empire--something for the Empire?" murmured the young man, wondering. 

Count Ferdinand von Stroebel rose. 

"You will accept the commission--I am quite sure you will accept. I leaveon an early train, and I shall not see you again. " As he took Armitage'shand he scrutinized him once more with particular care; there was alingering caress in his touch as he detained the young man for aninstant; then he sighed heavily. 

"Good night; good-by!" he said abruptly, and waved his caller toward thedoor. 

CHAPTER II

THE CLAIBORNES, OF WASHINGTON

--the Englishman who is not an Englishman and therefore doublyincomprehensible. --_The Naulahka_. 

The girl with the white-plumed hat started and flushed slightly, and herbrother glanced over his shoulder toward the restaurant door to see whathad attracted her attention. 

"'Tis he, the unknown, Dick. "

"I must say I like his persistence!" exclaimed the young fellow, turningagain to the table. "In America I should call him out and punch his head, but over here--"

"Over here you have better manners, " replied the girl, laughing. "But whytrouble yourself? He doesn't even look at us. We are of no importance tohim whatever. We probably speak a different language. "

"But he travels by the same trains; he stops at the same inns; he sitsnear us at the theater--he even affects the same pictures in the samegalleries! It's growing a trifle monotonous; it's really insufferable. Ithink I shall have to try my stick on him. "

"You flatter yourself, Richard, " mocked the girl. "He's fully your heightand a trifle broader across the shoulders. The lines about his mouth arealmost--yes, I should say, quite as firm as yours, though he is a youngerman. His eyes are nice blue ones, and they are very steady. His hairis"--she paused to reflect and tilted her head slightly, her eyeswandering for an instant to the subject of her comment--"light brown, Ishould call it. And he is beardless, as all self-respecting men shouldbe. I'm sure that he is an exemplary person--kind to his sisters andaunts, very willing to sacrifice himself for others and light the candleson his nephews' and nieces' Christmas trees. "

She rested her cheek against her lightly-clasped hands and sighed deeplyto provoke a continuation of her brother's growling disdain. 

The young gentleman to whom she had referred had seated himself at atable not far distant, given an order with some particularity, andsettled himself to the reading of a newspaper which he had drawn from thepocket of his blue serge coat. He was at once absorbed, and the presenceof the Claibornes gave him apparently not the slightest concern. 

"He has a sense of humor, " the girl resumed. "I saw him yesterday--"

"You're always seeing him: you ought to be ashamed of yourself. "

"Don't interrupt me, please. As I was saying, I saw him laughing over the_Fliegende Blätter_. "

"But that's no sign he has a sense of humor. It rather proves that hehasn't. I'm disappointed in you, Shirley. To think that my own sistershould be able to tell the color of a wandering blackguard's eyes!"

He struck a match viciously, and his sister laughed. 

"I might add to his portrait. That blue and white scarf is tiedbeautifully; and his profile would be splendid in a medallion. I believefrom his nose he may be English, after all, " she added with a dreamy airassumed to add to her brother's impatience. 

"Which doesn't help the matter materially, that I can see!" exclaimed theyoung man. "With a full beard he'd probably look like a Sicilian bandit. If I thought he was really pursuing you in this darkly mysterious way Ishould certainly give him a piece of my American mind. You might supposethat a girl would be safe traveling with her brother. "

"It isn't your fault, Dick, " laughed the girl. "You know our parents dearwere with us when we first began to notice him--that was in Rome. And nowthat we are alone he continues to follow our trail just the same. It'sreally diverting; and if you were a good brother you'd find out all abouthim, and we might even do stunts together--the three of us, with you asthe watchful chaperon. You forget how I have worked for you, Dick. Itook great chances in forcing an acquaintance with those frosty Englishpeople at Florence just because you were crazy about the scrawny blondewho wore the frightful hats. I wash my hands of you hereafter. Your tastein girls is horrible. "

"Your mind has been affected by reading these fake-kingdom romances, where a ridiculous prince gives up home and mother and his country tomarry the usual beautiful American girl who travels about having sillyadventures. I belong to the Know-nothing Party--America for Americans andonly white men on guard!"

"Yes, Richard! Your sentiments are worthy, but they'd have more weight ifI hadn't seen you staring your eyes out every time we came within a mileof a penny princess. I haven't forgotten your disgraceful conduct incollecting photographs of that homely daughter of a certain English duke. We'll call the incident closed, little brother. "

"Our friend Chauvenet, even, " continued Captain Claiborne, "is lesspersistent--less gloomily present on the horizon. We haven't seen him fora week or two. But he expects to visit Washington this spring. Hiswaistcoats are magnificent. The governor shies every time the fellowunbuttons his coat. "

"Mr. Chauvenet is an accomplished man of the world, " declared Shirleywith an insincere sparkle in her eyes. 

"He lives by his wits--and lives well. "

Claiborne dismissed Chauvenet and turned again toward the strange youngman, who was still deep in his newspaper. 

"He's reading the _Neue Freie Presse_, " remarked Dick, "by which token Iargue that he's some sort of a Dutchman. He's probably a traveling agentfor a Vienna glass-factory, or a drummer for a cheap wine-house, or theagent for a Munich brewery. That would account for his travels. We simplyfall in with his commercial itinerary. "

"You seem to imply, brother, that my charms are not in themselvessufficient. But a commercial traveler hardly commands that fine repose, that distinction--that air of having been places and seen things andknown people--"

"Tush! I have seen American book agents who had all that--even the air ofhaving been places! Your instincts ought to serve you better, Shirley. It's well that we go on to-morrow. I shall warn mother and the governorthat you need watching. "

Shirley Claiborne's eyes rested again upon the calm reader of the _NeueFreie Presse_. The waiter was now placing certain dishes upon the tablewithout, apparently, interesting the young gentleman in the least. Thenthe unknown dropped his newspaper, and buttered a roll reflectively. Hisgaze swept the room for the first time, passing over the heads of MissClaiborne and her brother unseeingly--with, perhaps, too studied an airof indifference. 

"He has known real sorrow, " persisted Shirley, her elbows on the table, her fingers interlocked, her chin resting idly upon them. "He's travelingin an effort to forget a blighting grief, " the girl continued with mocksympathy. 

"Then let us leave him in peace! We can't decently linger in the presenceof his sacred sorrow. "

Captain Richard Claiborne and his sister Shirley had stopped at Geneva tospend a week with a younger brother, who was in school there, and were tojoin their father and mother at Liverpool and sail for home at once. TheClaibornes were permanent residents of Washington, where HiltonClaiborne, a former ambassador to two of the greatest European courts, was counsel for several of the embassies and a recognized authority ininternational law. He had been to Rome to report to the Italiangovernment the result of his efforts to collect damages from the UnitedStates for the slaughter of Italian laborers in a railroad strike, andhad proceeded thence to England on other professional business. 

Dick Claiborne had been ill, and was abroad on leave in an effort toshake off the lingering effects of typhoid fever contracted in thePhilippines. He was under orders to report for duty at Fort Myer on thefirst of April, and it was now late March. He and his sister had spentthe morning at their brother's school and were enjoying a late _déjeûner_at the Monte Rosa. There existed between them a pleasant comradeship thatwas in no wise affected by divergent tastes and temperaments. Dick hadjust attained his captaincy, and was the youngest man of his rank in theservice. He did not know an orchid from a hollyhock, but no man in thearmy was a better judge of a cavalry horse, and if a Wagner recital boredhim to death his spirit rose, nevertheless, to the bugle, and he drilledhis troop until he could play with it and snap it about him like a whip. 

Shirley Claiborne had been out of college a year, and afforded a pleasantrefutation of the dull theory that advanced education destroys a girl'scharm, or buoyancy, or whatever it is that is so greatly admired in youngwomanhood. She gave forth the impression of vitality and strength. Shewas beautifully fair, with a high color that accentuated heryouthfulness. Her brown hair, caught up from her brow in the fashion ofthe early years of the century, flashed gold in sunlight. 

Much of Shirley's girlhood had been spent in the Virginia hills, whereJudge Claiborne had long maintained a refuge from the heat of Washington. From childhood she had read the calendar of spring as it is written uponthe landscape itself. Her fingers found by instinct the first arbutus;she knew where white violets shone first upon the rough breast of thehillsides; and particular patches of rhododendron had for her theintimate interest of private gardens. 

Undoubtedly there are deities fully consecrated to the important businessof naming girls, so happily is that task accomplished. Gladys is a childof the spirit of mischief. Josephine wears a sweet gravity, and Mary, too, discourses of serious matters. Nora, in some incarnation, has seenfairies scampering over moor and hill and the remembrance of them teasesher memory. Katherine is not so faithless as her ways might lead you tobelieve. Laura without dark eyes would be impossible, and her predestinedPetrarch would never deliver his sonnets. Helen may be seen only againsta background of Trojan wall. Gertrude must be tall and fair and readywith ballads in the winter twilight. Julia's reserve and discretioncommend her to you; but she has a heart of laughter. Anne is to be foundin the rose garden with clipping-shears and a basket. Hilda is a capableperson; there is no ignoring her militant character; the battles of Saxonkings ring still in her blood. Marjorie has scribbled verses in secret, and Celia is the quietest auditor at the symphony. And you may haveobserved that there is no button on Elizabeth's foil; you do well not toclash wits with her. Do you say that these ascriptions are not squarewith your experience? Then verily there must have been a sad mixingof infant candidates for the font in your parish. Shirley, in such case, will mean nothing to you. It is a waste of time to tell you that the namemay become audible without being uttered; you can not be made tounderstand that the _r_ and _l_ slip into each other as ripples glideover pebbles in a brook. And from the name to the girl--may you beforever denied a glimpse of Shirley Claiborne's pretty head, her brownhair and dream-haunted eyes, if you do not first murmur the name withhonest liking. 

As the Claibornes lingered at their table a short stout man espied themfrom the door and advanced beamingly. 

"Ah, my dear Shirley, and Dick! Can it be possible! I only heard bythe merest chance that you were here. But Switzerland is the realmeeting-place of the world. "

The young Americans greeted the new-comer cordially. A waiter placed achair for him, and took his hat. Arthur Singleton was an American, thoughhe had lived abroad so long as to have lost his identity with anyparticular city or state of his native land. He had been an attaché ofthe American embassy at London for many years. Administrations changedand ambassadors came and went, but Singleton was never molested. It wassaid that he kept his position on the score of his wide acquaintance;he knew every one, and he was a great peddler of gossip, particularlyabout people in high station. 

The children of Hilton Claiborne were not to be overlooked. He wouldimpress himself upon them, as was his way; for he was sincerely social byinstinct, and would go far to do a kindness for people he really liked. 

"Ah me! You have arrived opportunely, Miss Claiborne. There's mystery inthe air--the great Stroebel is here--under this very roof and in adreadfully bad humor. He is a dangerous man--a very dangerous man, butfailing fast. Poor Austria! Count Ferdinand von Stroebel can have nosuccessor--he's only a sort of holdover from the nineteenth century, andwith him and his Emperor out of the way--what? For my part I see onlydark days ahead;" and he concluded with a little sigh that impliedcrumbling thrones and falling dynasties. 

"We met him in Vienna, " said Shirley Claiborne, "when father was therebefore the Ecuador Claims Commission. He struck me as being a delightfulold grizzly bear. "

"He will have his place in history; he is a statesman of the old bloodand iron school; he is the peer of Bismarck, and some things he has done. He holds more secrets than any other man in Europe--and you may be quitesure that they will die with him. He will leave no memoirs to be pokedover by his enemies--no post-mortem confidences from him!"

The reader of the _Neue Freie Presse_, preparing to leave his table, torefrom the newspaper an article that seemed to have attracted him, placedit in his card-case, and walked toward the door. The eyes of ArthurSingleton lighted in recognition, and the attaché, muttering an apologyto the Claibornes, addressed the young gentleman cordially. 

"Why, Armitage, of all men!" and he rose, still facing the Claibornes, with an air of embracing the young Americans in his greetings. He neverliked to lose an auditor; and he would, in no circumstances, miss achance to display the wide circumference of his acquaintance. 

"Shirley--Miss Claiborne--allow me to present Mr. Armitage. " The youngarmy officer and Armitage then shook hands, and the three men stood for amoment, detained, it seemed, by the old attaché, who had no engagementfor the next hour or two and resented the idea of being left alone. 

"One always meets Armitage!" declared Singleton. "He knows our America aswell as we do--and very well indeed--for an Englishman. "

Armitage bowed gravely. 

"You make it necessary again for me to disavow any allegiance to thepowers that rule Great Britain. I'm really a fair sort of American--Ihave sometimes told New York people all about--Colorado--Montana--NewMexico!"

His voice and manner were those of a gentleman. His color, as ShirleyClaiborne now observed, was that of an outdoors man; she was familiarwith it in soldiers and sailors, and knew that it testified to a vigorousand wholesome life. 

"Of course you're not English!" exclaimed Singleton, annoyed as heremembered, or thought he did, that Armitage had on some other occasionmade the same protest. 

"I'm really getting sensitive about it, " said Armitage, more to theClaibornes than to Singleton. "But must we all be from somewhere? Is itso melancholy a plight to be a man without a country?"

The mockery in his tone was belied by the good humor in his face; hiseyes caught Shirley's passingly, and she smiled at him--it seemed anatural, a perfectly inevitable thing to do. She liked the kind tolerancewith which he suffered the babble of Arthur Singleton, whom some one hadcalled an international bore. The young man's dignity was only anexpression of self-respect; his appreciation of the exact proprietiesresulting from this casual introduction to herself and her brother wasperfect. He was already withdrawing. A waiter had followed him with hisdiscarded newspaper--and Armitage took it and idly dropped it on a chair. 

"Have you heard the news, Armitage? The Austrian sphinx is here--in thisvery house!" whispered Singleton impressively. 

"Yes; to be sure, Count von Stroebel is here, but he will probably notremain long. The Alps will soon be safe again. I am glad to have metyou. " He bowed to the Claibornes inclusively, nodded in response toSingleton's promise to look him up later, and left them. 

When Shirley and her brother reached their common sitting-room DickClaiborne laughingly held up the copy of the _Neue Freie Presse_ whichArmitage had cast aside at their table. 

"Now we shall know!" he declared, unfolding the newspaper. 

"Know what, Dick?"

"At least what our friend without a country is so interested in. "

He opened the paper, from which half a column had been torn, noted thedate, rang the bell, and ordered a copy of the same issue. When it wasbrought he opened it, found the place, laughed loudly, and passed thesheet over to his sister. 

"Oh, Shirley, Shirley! This is almost too much!" he cried, watching heras her eyes swept the article. She turned away to escape his noise, andafter a glance threw down the paper in disgust. The article dealt indetail with Austro-Hungarian finances, and fairly bristled with figuresand sage conclusions based upon them. 

"Isn't that the worst!" exclaimed Shirley, smiling ruefully. 

"He's certainly a romantic figure ready to your hand. Probably abank-clerk who makes European finance his recreation. "

"He isn't an Englishman, at any rate. He repudiated the idea with scorn. "

"Well, your Mr. Armitage didn't seem so awfully excited at meetingSingleton; but he seemed rather satisfied with your appearance, to put itmildly. I wonder if he had arranged with Singleton to pass by in thatpurely incidental way, just for the privilege of making youracquaintance!"

"Don't be foolish, Dick. It's unbecoming an officer and a gentleman. Butif you should see Mr. Singleton again--"

"Yes--not if I see him _first_!" ejaculated Claiborne. 

"Well, you might ask him who Mr. Armitage is. It would be amusing--andsatisfying--to know. "

Later in the day the old attaché fell upon Claiborne in the smoking-roomand stopped to discuss a report that a change was impending in theAmerican State Department. Changes at Washington did not troubleSingleton, who was sure of his tenure. He said as much; and after somefurther talk, Claiborne remarked:

"Your friend Armitage seems a good sort. "

"Oh, yes; a capital talker, and thoroughly well posted in affairs. "

"Yes, he seemed interesting. Do you happen to know where he lives--whenhe's at home?"

"Lord bless you, boy, I don't know anything about Armitage!" splutteredSingleton, with the emphasis so thrown as to imply that of course in anyother branch of human knowledge he would be found abundantly qualified toanswer questions. 

"But you introduced us to him--my sister and me. I assumed--"

"My dear Claiborne, I'm always introducing people! It's my business tointroduce people. Armitage is all right. He's always around everywhere. I've dined with him in Paris, and I've rarely seen a man order a betterdinner. "

CHAPTER III

DARK TIDINGS

The news I bring is heavy in my tongue. --Shakespeare. 

The second day thereafter Shirley Claiborne went into a jeweler's on theGrand Quai to purchase a trinket that had caught her eye, while shewaited for Dick, who had gone off in their carriage to the post-office tosend some telegrams. It was a small shop, and the time early afternoon, when few people were about. A man who had preceded her was looking atwatches, and seemed deeply absorbed in this occupation. She heard hisinquiries as to quality and price, and knew that it was Armitage's voicebefore she recognized his tall figure. She made her purchase quickly, andwas about to leave the shop, when he turned toward her and she bowed. 

"Good afternoon, Miss Claiborne. These are very tempting bazaars, aren'tthey? If the abominable tariff laws of America did not give us pause--"

He bent above her, hat in hand, smiling. He had concluded the purchase ofa watch, which the shopkeeper was now wrapping in a box. 

"I have just purchased a little remembrance for my ranch foreman out inMontana, and before I can place it in his hands it must be examined andappraised and all the pleasure of the gift destroyed by the customofficers in New York. I hope you are a good smuggler, Miss Claiborne. "

"I'd like to be. Women are supposed to have a knack at the business; butmy father is so patriotic that he makes me declare everything. "

"Patriotism will carry one far; but I object both to being taxed and tothe alternative of corrupting the gentlemen who lie in wait at thereceipt of customs. "

"Of course the answer is that Americans should buy at home, " repliedShirley. She received her change, and Armitage placed his small packagein his pocket. 

"My brother expected to meet me here; he ran off with our carriage, "Shirley explained. 

"These last errands are always trying--there are innumerable things onewould like to come back for from mid-ocean, tariff or no tariff. "

"There's the wireless, " said Shirley. "In time we shall be able to commitour afterthoughts to it. But lost views can hardly be managed that way. After I get home I shall think of scores of things I should like to seeagain--that photographs don't give. "

"Such as--?"

"Oh--the way the Pope looks when he gives his blessing at St. Peter's;and the feeling you have when you stand by Napoleon's tomb--the awfulnessof what he did and was--and being here in Switzerland, where I alwaysfeel somehow the pressure of all the past of Europe about me. Now, "--andshe laughed lightly, --"I have made a most serious confession. "

"It is a new idea--that of surveying the ages from these mountains. Theymust be very wise after all these years, and they have certainly seen menand nations do many evil and wretched things. But the history of theworld is all one long romance--a tremendous story. "

"That is what makes me sorry to go home, " said Shirley meditatively. "Weare so new--still in the making, and absurdly raw. When we have a war, itis just politics, with scandals about what the soldiers have to eat, andthat sort of thing; and there's a fuss about pensions, and the heroicside of it is lost. "

"But it is easy to overestimate the weight of history and tradition. Theglory of dead Caesar doesn't do the peasant any good. When you seeItalian laborers at work in America digging ditches or laying railroadties, or find Norwegian farmers driving their plows into the new hardsoil of the Dakotas, you don't think of their past as much as of theirfuture--the future of the whole human race. "

Armitage had been the subject of so much jesting between Dick and herselfthat it seemed strange to be talking to him. His face brightenedpleasantly when he spoke; his eyes were grayer than she had mockinglydescribed them for her brother's benefit the day before. His manner wasgravely courteous, and she did not at all believe that he had followedher about. 

Her ideals of men were colored by the American prejudice in favor ofthose who aim high and venture much. In her childhood she had read Maloryand Froissart with a boy's delight. She possessed, too, that poetic senseof the charm of "the spirit of place" that is the natural accompanimentof the imaginative temperament. The cry of bugles sometimes brought tearsto her eyes; her breath came quickly when she sat--as she often did--inthe Fort Myer drill hall at Washington and watched the alert cavalrymendashing toward the spectators' gallery in the mimic charge. The work thatbrave men do she admired above anything else in the world. As a child inWashington she had looked wonderingly upon the statues of heroes and thefrequent military pageants of the capital; and she had wept at the solemnpomp of military funerals. Once on a battleship she had thrilled at thesalutes of a mighty fleet in the Hudson below the tomb of Grant; and soonthereafter had felt awe possess her as she gazed upon the white marbleeffigy of Lee in the chapel at Lexington; for the contemplation of heroeswas dear to her, and she was proud to believe that her father, a veteranof the Civil War, and her soldier brother were a tie between herself andthe old heroic times. 

Armitage was aware that a jeweler's shop was hardly the place forextended conversation with a young woman whom he scarcely knew, but helingered in the joy of hearing this American girl's voice, and what shesaid interested him immensely. He had seen her first in Paris a fewmonths before at an exhibition of battle paintings. He had come upon herstanding quite alone before _High Tide at Gettysburg_, the picture of theyear; and he had noted the quick mounting of color to her cheeks as thesplendid movement of the painting--its ardor and fire--took hold of her. He saw her again in Florence; and it was from there that he haddeliberately followed the Claibornes. 

His own plans were now quite unsettled by his interview with VonStroebel. He fully expected Chauvenet in Geneva; the man had apparentlybeen on cordial terms with the Claibornes; and as he had seemed to bemaster of his own time, it was wholly possible that he would appearbefore the Claibornes left Geneva. It was now the second day after VonStroebel's departure, and Armitage began to feel uneasy. 

He stood with Shirley quite near the shop door, watching for CaptainClaiborne to come back with the carriage. 

"But America--isn't America the most marvelous product of romance in theworld, --its discovery, --the successive conflicts that led up to therealization of democracy? Consider the worthless idlers of the MiddleAges going about banging one another's armor with battle-axes. Let ushave peace, said the tired warrior. "

"He could afford to say it; he was the victor, " said Shirley. 

"Ah! there is Captain Claiborne. I am indebted to you, Miss Claiborne, for many pleasant suggestions. "

The carriage was at the door, and Dick Claiborne came up to them at onceand bowed to Armitage. 

"There is great news: Count Ferdinand von Stroebel was murdered in hisrailway carriage between here and Vienna; they found him dead atInnsbruck this morning. "

"Is it possible! Are you quite sure he was murdered?"

It was Armitage who asked the question. He spoke in a tone quitematter-of-fact and colorless, so that Shirley looked at him in surprise;but she saw that he was very grave; and then instantly some suddenfeeling flashed in his eyes. 

"There is no doubt of it. It was an atrocious crime; the count was an oldman and feeble when we saw him the other day. He wasn't fair game for anassassin, " said Claiborne. 

"No; he deserved a better fate, " remarked Armitage. 

"He was a grand old man, " said Shirley, as they left the shop and walkedtoward the carriage. "Father admired him greatly; and he was very kind tous in Vienna. It is terrible to think of his being murdered. "

"Yes; he was a wise and useful man, " observed Armitage, still grave. "Hewas one of the great men of his time. "

His tone was not that of one who discusses casually a bit of news of thehour, and Captain Claiborne paused a moment at the carriage door, curiousas to what Armitage might say further. 

"And now we shall see--" began the young American. 

"We shall see Johann Wilhelm die of old age within a few years at most;and then Charles Louis, his son, will be the Emperor-king in his place;and if he should go hence without heirs, his cousin Francis would rule inthe house of his fathers; and Francis is corrupt and worthless, and quitenecessary to the plans of destiny for the divine order of kings. "

John Armitage stood beside the carriage quite erect, his hat and stickand gloves in his right hand, his left thrust lightly into the sidepocket of his coat. 

"A queer devil, " observed Claiborne, as they drove away. "A solemncustomer, and not cheerful enough to make a good drummer. By whatsingular chance did he find you in that shop?"

"I found _him_, dearest brother, if I must make the humiliatingdisclosure. "

"I shouldn't have believed it! I hardly thought you would carry it sofar. "

"And while he may be a salesman of imitation cut-glass, he has expensivetastes. "

"Lord help us, he hasn't been buying you a watch?"

"No; he was lavishing himself on a watch for the foreman of his ranch inMontana. "

"Humph! you're chaffing. "

"Not in the least. He paid--I couldn't help being a witness to thetransaction--he actually paid five hundred francs for a watch to give tothe foreman of his ranch--_his_ ranch, mind you, in Montana, U. S. A. He spoke of it incidentally, as though he were always buying watches forcowboys. Now where does that leave us?"

"I'm afraid it rather does for my theory. I'll look him up when I gethome. Montana isn't a good hiding-place any more. But it was odd the wayhe acted about old Stroebel's death. You don't suppose he knew him, do you?"

"It's possible. Poor Count von Stroebel! Many hearts are lighter, nowthat he's done for. "

"Yes; and there will be something doing in Austria, now that he's out ofthe way. "

Four days passed, in which they devoted themselves to their youngbrother. The papers were filled with accounts of Count von Stroebel'sdeath and speculations as to its effect on the future of Austria and thepeace of Europe. The Claibornes saw nothing of Armitage. Dick asked forhim in the hotel, and found that he had gone, but would return in a fewdays. 

It was on the morning of the fourth day that Armitage appeared suddenlyat the hotel as Dick and his sister waited for a carriage to carry themto their train. He had just returned, and they met by the narrowestmargin. He walked with them to the door of the Monte Rosa. 

"We are running for the _King Edward_, and hope for a day in Londonbefore we sail. Perhaps we shall see you one of these days in America, "said Claiborne, with some malice, it must be confessed, for his sister'sbenefit. 

"That is possible; I am very fond of Washington, " responded Armitagecarelessly. 

"Of course you will look us up, " persisted Dick. "I shall be at Fort Myerfor a while--and it will always be a pleasure--"

Claiborne turned for a last word with the porter about their baggage, andArmitage stood talking to Shirley, who had already entered the carriage. 

"Oh, is there any news of Count von Stroebel's assassin?" she asked, noting the newspaper that Armitage held in his hand. 

"Nothing. It's a very mysterious and puzzling affair. "

"It's horrible to think such a thing possible--he was a wonderful oldman. But very likely they will find the murderer. "

"Yes; undoubtedly. "

Then, seeing her brother beating his hands together impatiently behindArmitage's back--a back whose ample shoulders were splendidly silhouettedin the carriage door--Shirley smiled in her joy of the situation, andwould have prolonged it for her brother's benefit even to the point ofmissing the train, if the matter had been left wholly in her hands. Itamused her to keep the conversation pitched in the most impersonal key. 

"The secret police will scour Europe in pursuit of the assassin, " sheobserved. 

"Yes, " replied Armitage gravely. 

He thought her brown traveling gown, with hat and gloves to match, exceedingly becoming, and he liked the full, deep tones of her voice, and the changing light of her eyes; and a certain dimple in her leftcheek--he had assured himself that it had no counterpart on theright--made the fate of principalities and powers seem, at the moment, anidle thing. 

"The truth will be known before we sail, no doubt, " said Shirley. "Theassassin may be here in Geneva by this time. "

"That is quite likely, " said John Armitage, with unbroken gravity. "Infact, I rather expect him here, or I should be leaving to-day myself. "

He bowed and made way for the vexed and chafing Claiborne, who gave hishand to Armitage hastily and jumped into the carriage. 

"Your imitation cut-glass drummer has nearly caused us to miss our train. Thank the Lord, we've seen the last of that fellow. "

Shirley said nothing, but gazed out of the window with a wondering lookin her eyes. And on the way to Liverpool she thought often of Armitage'slast words. "I rather expect him here, or I should be leaving to-daymyself, " he had said. 

She was not sure whether, if it had not been for those words, she wouldhave thought of him again at all. She remembered him as he stood framedin the carriage door--his gravity, his fine ease, the impression he gaveof great physical strength, and of resources of character and courage. 

And so Shirley Claiborne left Geneva, not knowing the curious web thatfate had woven for her, nor how those last words spoken by Armitage atthe carriage door were to link her to strange adventures at the verythreshold of her American home. 

CHAPTER IV

JOHN ARMITAGE A PRISONER

All things are bright in the track of the sun, All things are fair I see;And the light in a golden tide has run Down out of the sky to me. 

And the world turns round and round and round, And my thought sinks into the sea;The sea of peace and of joy profound Whose tide is mystery. 

--S. W. Duffield. 

The man whom John Armitage expected arrived at the Hotel Monte Rosa a fewhours after the Claibornes' departure. 

While he waited, Mr. Armitage employed his time to advantage. Hecarefully scrutinized his wardrobe, and after a process of eliminationand substitution he packed his raiment in two trunks and was ready toleave the inn at ten minutes' notice. Between trains, when not engaged inwatching the incoming travelers, he smoked a pipe over various packets ofpapers and letters, and these he burned with considerable care. All theFrench and German newspaper accounts of the murder of Count von Stroebelhe read carefully; and even more particularly he studied the condition ofaffairs in Vienna consequent upon the great statesman's death. Secretagents from Vienna and detectives from Paris had visited Geneva in theirstudy of this astounding crime, and had made much fuss and asked manyquestions; but Mr. John Armitage paid no heed to them. He had held thelast conversation of length that any one had enjoyed with Count Ferdinandvon Stroebel, but the fact of this interview was known to no one, unlessto one or two hotel servants, and these held a very high opinion of Mr. Armitage's character, based on his generosity in the matter of gold coin;and there could, of course, be no possible relationship between soshocking a tragedy and a chance acquaintance between two travelers. Mr. Armitage knew nothing that he cared to impart to detectives, and a greatdeal that he had no intention of imparting to any one. He accumulated aremarkable assortment of time-tables and advertisements of transatlanticsailings against sudden need, and even engaged passage on three steamerssailing from English and French ports within the week. 

He expected that the person for whom he waited would go direct to theHotel Monte Rosa for the reason that Shirley Claiborne had been there;and Armitage was not mistaken. When this person learned that theClaibornes had left, he would doubtless hurry after them. This is theconclusion that was reached by Mr. Armitage, who, at times, wassingularly happy in his speculations as to the mental processes of otherpeople. Sometimes, however, he made mistakes, as will appear. 

The gentleman for whom John Armitage had been waiting arrived alone, andwas received as a distinguished guest by the landlord. 

Monsieur Chauvenet inquired for his friends the Claibornes, and wasclearly annoyed to find that they had gone; and no sooner had thisintelligence been conveyed to him than he, too, studied time-tables andconsulted steamer advertisements. Mr. John Armitage in various discreetways was observant of Monsieur Chauvenet's activities, and bookings atsteamship offices interested him so greatly that he reserved passage ontwo additional steamers and ordered the straps buckled about his trunks, for it had occurred to him that he might find it necessary to leaveGeneva in a hurry. 

It was not likely that Monsieur Chauvenet, being now under his eyes, would escape him; and John Armitage, making a leisurely dinner, learnedfrom his waiter that Monsieur Chauvenet, being worn from his travels, wasdining alone in his rooms. 

At about eight o'clock, as Armitage turned the pages of _Figaro_ in thesmoking-room, Chauvenet appeared at the door, scrutinized the groupwithin, and passed on. Armitage had carried his coat, hat and stick intothe smoking-room, to be ready for possible emergencies; and whenChauvenet stepped out into the street he followed. 

It was unusually cold for the season, and a fine drizzle filled the air. Chauvenet struck off at once away from the lake, turned into theBoulevard Helvétique, thence into the Boulevard Froissart with its colonyof _pensions_. He walked rapidly until he reached a house that wasdistinguished from its immediate neighbors only by its unlighted upperwindows. He pulled the bell in the wall, and the door was at once openedand instantly closed. 

Armitage, following at twenty yards on the opposite side of the street, paused abruptly at the sudden ending of his chase. It was not an hour forloitering, for the Genevan _gendarmerie_ have rather good eyes, butArmitage had by no means satisfied his curiosity as to the nature ofChauvenet's errand. He walked on to make sure he was unobserved, crossedthe street, and again passed the dark, silent house which Chauvenet hadentered. He noted the place carefully; it gave no outward appearance ofbeing occupied. He assumed, from the general plan of the neighboringbuildings, that there was a courtyard at the rear of the darkened house, accessible through a narrow passageway at the side. As he studied thesituation he kept moving to avoid observation, and presently, at a momentwhen he was quite alone in the street, walked rapidly to the houseChauvenet had entered. 

Gentlemen in search of adventures do well to avoid the continental wall. Mr. Armitage brushed the glass from the top with his hat. It jingledsoftly within under cover of the rain-drip. The plaster had crumbled fromthe bricks in spots, giving a foot its opportunity, and Mr. Armitage drewhimself to the top and dropped within. The front door and windows staredat him blankly, and he committed his fortunes to the bricked passageway. The rain was now coming down in earnest, and at the rear of the housewater had begun to drip noisily into an iron spout. The electric lightsfrom neighboring streets made a kind of twilight even in the darkenedcourt, and Armitage threaded his way among a network of clothes-lines tothe rear wall and viewed the premises. He knew his Geneva from manyprevious visits; the quarter was undeniably respectable; and there is, tobe sure, no reason why the blinds of a house should not be carefullydrawn at nightfall at the pleasure of the occupants. The whole lowerfloor seemed utterly deserted; only at one point on the third floor wasthere any sign of light, and this the merest hint. 

The increasing fall of rain did not encourage loitering in the wetcourtyard, where the downspout now rattled dolorously, and Armitagecrossed the court and further assured himself that the lower floor wasdark and silent. Balconies were bracketed against the wall at the secondand third stories, and the slight iron ladder leading thither terminateda foot above his head. John Armitage was fully aware that his position, if discovered, was, to say the least, untenable; but he was secure fromobservation by police, and he assumed that the occupants of the housewere probably too deeply engrossed with their affairs to waste much timeon what might happen without. Armitage sprang up and caught the lowestround of the ladder, and in a moment his tall figure was a dark bluragainst the wall as he crept warily upward. The rear rooms of the secondstory were as dark and quiet as those below. Armitage continued to thethird story, where a door, as well as several windows, gave upon thebalcony; and he found that it was from a broken corner of the door shadethat a sharp blade of light cut the dark. All continued quiet below; heheard the traffic of the neighboring thoroughfares quite distinctly; andfrom a kitchen near by came the rough clatter of dishwashing to theaccompaniment of a quarrel in German between the maids. For the momenthe felt secure, and bent down close to the door and listened. 

Two men were talking, and evidently the matter under discussion was ofimportance, for they spoke with a kind of dogged deliberation, and thelong pauses in the dialogue lent color to the belief that some weightymatter was in debate. The beat of the rain on the balcony and its steadyrattle in the spout intervened to dull the sound of voices, but presentlyone of the speakers, with an impatient exclamation, rose, opened thesmall glass-paned door a few inches, peered out, and returned to his seatwith an exclamation of relief. Armitage had dropped down the ladder halfa dozen rounds as he heard the latch snap in the door. He waited aninstant to make sure he had not been seen, then crept back to the balconyand found that the slight opening in the door made it possible for him tosee as well as hear. 

"It's stifling in this hole, " said Chauvenet, drawing deeply upon hiscigarette and blowing a cloud of smoke. "If you will pardon theinformality, I will lay aside my coat. "

He carefully hung the garment upon the back of his chair to hold itsshape, then resumed his seat. His companion watched him meanwhile with acertain intentness. 

"You take excellent care of your clothes, my dear Jules. I never havebeen able to fold a coat without ruining it. "

The rain was soaking Armitage thoroughly, but its persistent beat coveredany slight noises made by his own movements, and he was now intent uponthe little room and its occupants. He observed the care with which theman kept close to his coat, and he pondered the matter as he hung uponthe balcony. If Chauvenet was on his way to America it was possible thathe would carry with him the important paper whose loss had caused so muchanxiety to the Austrian minister; if so, where was it during his stay inGeneva?

"The old man's death is only the first step. We require a succession ofdeaths. "

"We require three, to be explicit, not more or less. We should befortunate if the remaining two could be accomplished as easily asStroebel's. "

"He was a beast. He is well dead. "

"That depends on the way you look at it. They seem really to be mourningthe old beggar at Vienna. It is the way of a people. They like to beruled by a savage hand. The people, as you have heard me say before, arefools. "

The last speaker was a young man whom Armitage had never seen before;he was a decided blond, with close-trimmed straw-colored beard andslightly-curling hair. Opposite him, and facing the door, sat Chauvenet. On the table between them were decanters and liqueur glasses. 

"I am going to America at once, " said Chauvenet, holding his filled glasstoward a brass lamp of an old type that hung from the ceiling. 

"It is probably just as well, " said the other. "There's work to do there. We must not forget our more legitimate business in the midst of thesepleasant side issues. "

"The field is easy. After our delightful continental capitals, where, asyou know, one is never quite sure of one's self, it is pleasant tobreathe the democratic airs of Washington, " remarked Chauvenet. 

"Particularly so, my dear friend, when one is blessed with yourdelightful social gifts. I envy you your capacity for making othershappy. "

There was a keen irony in the fellow's tongue and the edge of itevidently touched Chauvenet, who scowled and bent forward with hisfingers on the table. 

"Enough of that, if you please. "

"As you will, _carino_; but you will pardon me for offering mycondolences on the regrettable departure of _la belle Americaine_. If youhad not been so intent on matters of state you would undoubtedly havefound her here. As it is, you are now obliged to see her on her nativesoil. A month in Washington may do much for you. She is beautiful andreasonably rich. Her brother, the tall captain, is said to be the besthorseman in the American army. "

"Humph! He is an ass, " ejaculated Chauvenet. 

A servant now appeared bearing a fresh bottle of cordial. He wasdistinguished by a small head upon a tall and powerful body, and borelittle resemblance to a house servant. While he brushed the cigar ashesfrom the table the men continued their talk without heeding him. 

Chauvenet and his friend had spoken from the first in French, but inaddressing some directions to the servant, the blond, who assumed therôle of host, employed a Servian dialect. 

"I think we were saying that the mortality list in certain directionswill have to be stimulated a trifle before we can do our young friendFrancis any good. You have business in America, _carino_. That paper wefilched from old Stroebel strengthens our hold on Francis; but there isstill that question as to Karl and Frederick Augustus. Our dear Francisis not satisfied. He wishes to be quite sure that his dear father andbrother are dead. We must reassure him, dearest Jules. "

"Don't be a fool, Durand. You never seem to understand that the UnitedStates of America is a trifle larger than a barnyard. And I don't believethose fellows are over there. They're probably lying in wait heresomewhere, ready to take advantage of any opportunity, ---that is, if theyare alive. A man can hardly fail to be impressed with the fact that sofew lives stand between him and--"

"The heights--the heights!" And the young man, whom Chauvenet calledDurand, lifted his tiny glass airily. 

"Yes; the heights, " repeated Chauvenet a little dreamily. 

"But that declaration--that document! You have never honored me with aglimpse; but you have it put safely away, I dare say. "

"There is no place--but one--that I dare risk. It is always within easyreach, my dear friend. "

"You will do well to destroy that document. It is better out of the way. "

"Your deficiencies in the matter of wisdom are unfortunate. That paperconstitutes our chief asset, my dear associate. So long as we have it weare able to keep dear Francis in order. Therefore we shall hold fast toit, remembering that we risked much in removing it from the lamentedStroebel's archives. "

"Do you say 'risked much'? My valued neck, that is all!" said the other. "You and Winkelried are without gratitude. "

"You will do well, " said Chauvenet, "to keep an eye open in Vienna forthe unknown. If you hear murmurs in Hungary one of these fine days--!Nothing has happened for some time; therefore much may happen. "

He glanced at his watch. 

"I have work in Paris before sailing for New York. Shall we discuss thematter of those Peruvian claims? That is business. These other affairsare more in the nature of delightful diversions, my dear comrade. "

They drew nearer the table and Durand produced a box of papers over whichhe bent with serious attention. Armitage had heard practically all oftheir dialogue, and, what was of equal interest, had been able to studythe faces and learn the tones of voice of the two conspirators. He wascramped from his position on the narrow balcony and wet and chilled bythe rain, which was now slowly abating. He had learned much that hewished to know, and with an ease that astonished him; and he was wellcontent to withdraw with gratitude for his good fortune. 

His legs were numb and he clung close to the railing of the little ladderfor support as he crept toward the area. At the second story his footslipped on the wet iron, smooth from long use, and he stumbled downseveral steps before he recovered himself. He listened a moment, heardnothing but the tinkle of the rain in the spout, then continued hisretreat. 

As he stepped out upon the brick courtyard he was seized from behind by apair of strong arms that clasped him tight. In a moment he was thrownacross the threshold of a door into an unlighted room, where his captorpromptly sat upon him and proceeded to strike a light. 

CHAPTER V

A LOST CIGARETTE CASE

To other woods the trail leads on, To other worlds and new, Where they who keep the secret here Will keep the promise too. 

--Henry A. Beers. 

The man clenched Armitage about the body with his legs while he struck amatch on a box he produced from his pocket. The suddenness with which hehad been flung into the kitchen had knocked the breath out of Armitage, and the huge thighs of his captor pinned his arms tight. The matchspurted fire and he looked into the face of the servant whom he had seenin the room above. His round head was covered with short, wire-like hairthat grew low upon his narrow forehead. Armitage noted, too, the man'sbull-like neck, small sharp eyes and bristling mustache. The fitful flashof the match disclosed the rough furniture of a kitchen; the brickflooring and his wet inverness lay cold at Armitage's back. 

The fellow growled an execration in Servian; then with ponderousdifficulty asked a question in German. 

"Who are you and what do you want here?"

Armitage shook his head; and replied in English:

"I do not understand. "

The man struck a series of matches that he might scrutinize his captive'sface, then ran his hands over Armitage's pockets to make sure he had noarms. The big fellow was clearly puzzled to find that he had caught agentleman in water-soaked evening clothes lurking in the area, and as thematter was beyond his wits it only remained for him to communicate withhis master. This, however, was not so readily accomplished. He hadreasons of his own for not calling out, and there were difficulties inthe way of holding the prisoner and at the same time bringing down themen who had gone to the most distant room in the house for their ownsecurity. 

Several minutes passed during which the burly Servian struck his matchesand took account of his prisoner; and meanwhile Armitage lay perfectlystill, his arms fast numbing from the rough clasp of the stalwartservant's legs. There was nothing to be gained by a struggle in thisposition, and he knew that the Servian would not risk losing him in theeffort to summon the odd pair who were bent over their papers at the topof the house. The Servian was evidently a man of action. 

"Get up, " he commanded, still in rough German, and he rose in the darkand jerked Armitage after him. There was a moment of silence in whichArmitage shook and stretched himself, and then the Servian struck anothermatch and held it close to a revolver which he held pointed at Armitage'shead. 

"I will shoot, " he said again in his halting German. 

"Undoubtedly you will!" and something in the fellow's manner causedArmitage to laugh. He had been caught and he did not at once see any safeissue out of his predicament; but his plight had its preposterous sideand the ease with which he had been taken at the very outset of his questtouched his humor. Then he sobered instantly and concentrated his witsupon the immediate situation. 

The Servian backed away with a match upheld in one hand and the leveledrevolver in the other, leaving Armitage in the middle of the kitchen. 

"I am going to light a lamp and if you move I will kill you, " admonishedthe fellow, and Armitage heard his feet scraping over the brick floor ofthe kitchen as he backed toward a table that stood against the wall nearthe outer door. 

Armitage stood perfectly still. The neighborhood and the house itselfwere quiet; the two men in the third-story room were probably engrossedwith the business at which Armitage had left them; and his immediateaffair was with the Servian alone. The fellow continued to mumble histhreats; but Armitage had resolved to play the part of an Englishman whounderstood no German, and he addressed the man sharply in English severaltimes to signify that he did not understand. 

The Servian half turned toward his prisoner, the revolver in his lefthand, while with the fingers of his right he felt laboriously for a lampthat had been revealed by the fitful flashes of the matches. It is not aneasy matter to light a lamp when you have only one hand to work with, particularly when you are obliged to keep an eye on a mysterious prisonerof whose character you are ignorant; and it was several minutes beforethe job was done. 

"You will go to that corner;" and the Servian translated for hisprisoner's benefit with a gesture of the revolver. 

"Anything to please you, worthy fellow, " replied Armitage, and he obeyedwith amiable alacrity. The man's object was to get him as far from theinner door as possible while he called help from above, which was, ofcourse, the wise thing from his point of view, as Armitage recognized. 

Armitage stood with his back against a rack of pots; the table was at hisleft and beyond it the door opening upon the court; a barred window wasat his right; opposite him was another door that communicated with theinterior of the house and disclosed the lower steps of a rude stairwayleading upward. The Servian now closed and locked the outer kitchen doorwith care. 

Armitage had lost his hat in the area; his light walking-stick lay in themiddle of the floor; his inverness coat hung wet and bedraggled abouthim; his shirt was crumpled and soiled. But his air of good humor and histame acceptance of capture seemed to increase the Servian's caution, andhe backed away toward the inner door with his revolver still pointed atArmitage's head. 

He began calling lustily up the narrow stair-well in Servian, changing ina moment to German. He made a ludicrous figure, as he held his revolverat arm's length, craning his neck into the passage, and howling until hewas red in the face. He paused to listen, then renewed his cries, whileArmitage, with his back against the rack of pots, studied the room andmade his plans. 

"There is a thief here! I have caught a thief!" yelled the Servian, nowexasperated by the silence above. Then, as he relaxed a moment and turnedto make sure that his revolver still covered Armitage, there was a suddensound of steps above and a voice bawled angrily down the stairway:

"Zmai, stop your noise and tell me what's the trouble. "

It was the voice of Durand speaking in the Servian dialect; and Zmaiopened his mouth to explain. 

As the big fellow roared his reply Armitage snatched from the rack aheavy iron boiling-pot, swung it high by the bail with both hands and letit fly with all his might at the Servian's head, upturned in theearnestness of his bawling. On the instant the revolver roared loudly inthe narrow kitchen and Armitage seized the brass lamp and flung it fromhim upon the hearth, where it fell with a great clatter withoutexploding. 

It was instantly pitch dark. The Servian had gone down like a felled oxand Armitage at the threshold leaped over him into the hall past the rearstairs down which the men were stumbling, cursing volubly as they came. 

Armitage had assumed the existence of a front stairway, and now that hewas launched upon an unexpected adventure, he was in a humor to prolongit for a moment, even at further risk. He crept along a dark passage tothe front door, found and turned the key to provide himself with a readyexit, then, as he heard the men from above stumble over the prostrateServian, he bounded up the front stairway, gained the second floor, thenthe third, and readily found by its light the room that he had observedearlier from the outside. 

Below there was smothered confusion and the crackling of matches asDurand and Chauvenet sought to grasp the unexpected situation thatconfronted them. The big servant, Armitage knew, would hardly be ableto clear matters for them at once, and he hurriedly turned over thepackets of papers that lay on the table. They were claims of one kind andanother against several South and Central American republics, chiefly fornaval and military supplies, and he merely noted their general character. They were, on the face of it, certified accounts in the usual manner ofbusiness. On the back of each had been printed with a rubber stamp thewords:

"Vienna, Paris, Washington. Chauvenet et Durand. "

Armitage snatched up the coat which Chauvenet had so carefully placed onthe back of his chair, ran his hands through the pockets, found themempty, then gathered the garment tightly in his hands, laughed a littleto himself to feel papers sewn into the lining, and laughed again as hetore the lining loose and drew forth a flat linen envelope brilliant withthree seals of red wax. 

Steps sounded below; a man was running up the back stairs; and from thekitchen rose sounds of mighty groanings and cursings in the heavygutturals of the Servian, as he regained his wits and sought to explainhis plight. 

Armitage picked up a chair, ran noiselessly to the head of the backstairs, and looked down upon Chauvenet, who was hurrying up with aflaming candle held high above his head, its light showing anxiety andfear upon his face. He was half-way up the last flight, and Armitagestood in the dark, watching him with a mixture of curiosity andsomething, too, of humor. Then he spoke--in French--in a tone thatimitated the cool irony he had noted in Durand's tone:

"A few murders more or less! But Von Stroebel was hardly a fair mark, dearest Jules!"

With this he sent the chair clattering down the steps, where it struckJules Chauvenet's legs with a force that carried him howling lustilybackward to the second landing. 

Armitage turned and sped down the front stairway, hearing renewed clamorfrom the rear and cries of rage and pain from the second story. Infumbling for the front door he found a hat, and, having lost his own, placed it upon his head, drew his inverness about his shoulders, and wentquickly out. A moment later he slipped the catch in the wall door andstepped into the boulevard. 

The stars were shining among the flying clouds overhead and he drew deepbreaths of the freshened air into his lungs as he walked back to theMonte Rosa. Occasionally he laughed quietly to himself, for he stillgrasped tightly in his hand, safe under his coat, the envelope whichChauvenet had carried so carefully concealed; and several times Armitagemuttered to himself:

"A few murders, more or less!"

At the hotel he changed his clothes, threw the things from hisdressing-table into a bag, and announced his departure for Paris bythe night express. 

As he drove to the railway station he felt for his cigarette case, anddiscovered that it was missing. The loss evidently gave him greatconcern, for he searched and researched his pockets and opened his bagsat the station to see if he had by any chance overlooked it, but it wasnot to be found. 

His annoyance at the loss was balanced--could he have known it--by theinterest with which, almost before the wall door had closed upon him, twogentlemen--one of them still in his shirt sleeves and with a purple lumpover his forehead--bent over a gold cigarette case in the dark house onthe Boulevard Froissart. It was a pretty trinket, and contained, whenfound on the kitchen floor, exactly four cigarettes of excellent Turkishtobacco. On one side of it was etched, in shadings of blue and whiteenamel, a helmet, surmounted by a falcon, poised for flight, and, beneath, the motto _Fide non armis_. The back bore in English script, written large, the letters _F. A. _

The men stared at each other wonderingly for an instant, then both leapedto their feet. 

"It isn't possible!" gasped Durand. 

"It is quite possible, " replied Chauvenet. "The emblem is unmistakable. Good God, look!"

The sweat had broken out on Chauvenet's face and he leaped to the chairwhere his coat hung, and caught up the garment with shaking hands. Thesilk lining fluttered loose where Armitage had roughly torn out theenvelope. 

"Who is he? Who is he?" whispered Durand, very white of face. 

"It may be--it must be some one deeply concerned. "

Chauvenet paused, drawing his hand across his forehead slowly; then thecolor leaped back into his face, and he caught Durand's arm so tight thatthe man flinched. 

"There has been a man following me about; I thought he was interested inthe Claibornes. He's here--I saw him at the Monte Rosa to-night. God!"

He dropped his hand from Durand's arm and struck the table fiercely withhis clenched hand. 

"John Armitage--John Armitage! I heard his name in Florence. "

His eyes were snapping with excitement, and amazement grew in his face. 

"Who is John Armitage?" demanded Durand sharply; but Chauvenet stared athim in stupefaction for a tense moment, then muttered to himself:

"Is it possible? Is it possible?" and his voice was hoarse and his handtrembled as he picked up the cigarette case. 

"My dear Jules, you act as though you had seen a ghost. Who the devil isArmitage?"

Chauvenet glanced about the room cautiously, then bent forward andwhispered very low, close to Durand's ear:

"Suppose he were the son of the crazy Karl! Suppose he were FrederickAugustus!"

"Bah! It is impossible! What is your man Armitage like?" asked Durandirritably. 

"He is the right age. He is a big fellow and has quite an air. He seemsto be without occupation. "

"Clearly so, " remarked Durand ironically. "But he has evidently beenwatching us. Quite possibly the lamented Stroebel employed him. He mayhave seen Stroebel here--"

Chauvenet again struck the table smartly. 

"Of course he would see Stroebel! Stroebel was the Archduke's friend;Stroebel and this fellow between them--"

"Stroebel is dead. The Archduke is dead; there can be no manner of doubtof that, " said Durand; but doubt was in his tone and in his eyes. 

"Nothing is certain; it would be like Karl to turn up again with a son toback his claims. They may both be living. This Armitage is not theordinary pig of a secret agent. We must find him. "

"And quickly. There must be--"

"--another death added to our little list before we are quite masters ofthe situation in Vienna. "

They gave Zmai orders to remain on guard at the house and went hurriedlyout together. 

CHAPTER VI

TOWARD THE WESTERN STARS

Her blue eyes sought the west afar, For lovers love the western star. 

--_Lay of the Last Minstrel_. 

Geneva is a good point from which to plan flight to any part of theworld, for there at the top of Europe the whole continental railwaysystem is easily within your grasp, and you may make your choice ofsailing ports. It is, to be sure, rather out of your way to seek a shipat Liverpool unless you expect to gain some particular advantage in doingso. Mr. John Armitage hurried thither in the most breathless haste tocatch the _King Edward_, whereas he might have taken the _Touraine_at Cherbourg and saved himself a mad scamper; but his satisfaction infinding himself aboard the _King Edward_ was supreme. He was and is, itmay be said, a man who salutes the passing days right amiably, no matterhow somber their colors. 

Shirley Claiborne and Captain Richard Claiborne, her brother, were ondeck watching the shipping in the Mersey as the big steamer swung intothe channel. 

"I hope, " observed Dick, "that we have shaken off all your transatlanticsuitors. That little Chauvenet died easier than I had expected. He neverturned up after we left Florence, but I'm not wholly sure that we shan'tfind him at the dock in New York. And that mysterious Armitage, who spentso much railway fare following us about, and who almost bought you awatch in Geneva, really disappoints me. His persistence had actuallycompelled my admiration. For a glass-blower he was fairly decent, though, and better than a lot of these little toy men with imitation titles. "

"Is that an American cruiser? I really believe it is the _Tecumseh_. Whaton earth were you talking about, Dick?"

Shirley fluttered her handkerchief in the direction of the American flagdisplayed by the cruiser, and Dick lifted his cap. 

"I was bidding farewell to your foreign suitors, Shirley, andcongratulating myself that as soon as _père et mère_ get their sea legsthey will resume charge of you, and let me look up two or three verypresentable specimens of your sex I saw come on board. Your affairshave annoyed me greatly and I shall be glad to be free of theresponsibility. "

"Thank you, Captain. "

"And if there are any titled blackguards on board--"

"You will do dreadfully wicked things to them, won't you, littlebrother?"

"Humph! Thank God, I'm an American!"

"That's a worthy sentiment, Richard. "

"I'd like to give out, as our newspapers say, a signed statement throwinga challenge to all Europe. I wish we'd get into a real war once so wecould knock the conceit out of one of their so-called first-class powers. I'd like to lead a regiment right through the most sacred precincts ofLondon; or take an early morning gallop through Berlin to wake up theDutch. All this talk about hands across the sea and such rot makes mesick. The English are the most benighted and the most conceited andcondescending race on earth; the Germans and Austrians are stalebeer-vats, and the Italians and French are mere decadents and don'tcount. "

"Yes, dearest, " mocked Shirley. "Oh, my large brother, I have aconfession to make. Please don't indulge in great oaths or stamp a holein this sturdy deck, but there are flowers in my state-room--"

"Probably from the Liverpool consul--he's been pestering father to helphim get a transfer to a less gloomy hole. "

"Then I shall intercede myself with the President when I get home. They're orchids--from London--but--with Mr. Armitage's card. Wouldn'tthat excite you?"

"It makes me sick!" and Dick hung heavily on the rail and glared at apassing tug. 

"They are beautiful orchids. I don't remember when orchids have happenedto me before, Richard--in such quantities. Now, you really didn'tdisapprove of him so much, did you? This is probably good-by forever, buthe wasn't so bad; and he may be an American, after all. "

"A common adventurer! Such fellows are always turning up, like badpennies, or a one-eyed dog. If I should see him again--"

"Yes, Richard, if you should meet again--"

"I'd ask him to be good enough to stop following us about, and if hepersisted I should muss him up. "

"Yes; I'm sure you would protect me from his importunities at anyhazard, " mocked Shirley, turning and leaning against the rail so that shelooked along the deck beyond her brother's stalwart shoulders. 

"Don't be silly, " observed Dick, whose eyes were upon a trim yacht thatwas steaming slowly beneath them. 

"I shan't, but please don't be violent! Do not murder the poor man, Dickie, dear, "--and she took hold of his arm entreatingly--"for there heis--as tall and mysterious as ever--and me found guilty with a few of hisorchids pinned to my jacket!"

"This is good fortune, indeed, " said Armitage a moment later when theyhad shaken hands. "I finished my errand at Geneva unexpectedly and here Iam. "

He smiled at the feebleness of his explanation, and joined in theirpassing comment on the life of the harbor. He was not so dull but that hefelt Dick Claiborne's resentment of his presence on board. He knewperfectly well that his acquaintance with the Claibornes was too slightto be severely strained, particularly where a fellow of Dick Claiborne'shigh spirit was concerned. He talked with them a few minutes longer, thentook himself off; and they saw little of him the rest of the day. 

Armitage did not share their distinction of a seat at the captain'stable, and Dick found him late at night in the smoking-saloon with pipeand book. Armitage nodded and asked him to sit down. 

"You are a sailor as well as a soldier, Captain. You are fortunate; Ialways sit up the first night to make sure the enemy doesn't lay hold ofme in my sleep. "

He tossed his book aside, had brandy and soda brought and offeredClaiborne a cigar. 

"This is not the most fortunate season for crossing; I am sure to fallto-morrow. My father and mother hate the sea particularly and haveretired for three days. My sister is the only one of us who is perfectlyimmune. "

"Yes; I can well image Miss Claiborne in the good graces of theelements, " replied Armitage; and they were silent for several minuteswhile a big Russian, who was talking politics in a distant corner with avery small and solemn German, boomed out his views on the Easternquestion in a tremendous bass. 

Dick Claiborne was a good deal amused at finding himself sitting besideArmitage, --enjoying, indeed, his fellow traveler's hospitality; butArmitage, he was forced to admit, bore all the marks of a gentleman. Hehad, to be sure, followed Shirley about, but even the young man's mannerin this was hardly a matter at which he could cavil. And there wassomething altogether likable in Armitage; his very composure wasattractive to Claiborne; and the bold lines of his figure were not wastedon the young officer. In the silence, while they smoked, he noted theperfect taste that marked Armitage's belongings, which to him meant more, perhaps, than the steadiness of the man's eyes or the fine lines of hisface. Unconsciously Claiborne found himself watching Armitage's strongringless hands, and he knew that such a hand, well kept though itappeared, had known hard work, and that the long supple fingers were suchas might guide a tiller fearlessly or set a flag daringly upon afire-swept parapet. 

Armitage was thinking rapidly of something he had suddenly resolved tosay to Captain Claiborne. He knew that the Claibornes were a family ofdistinction; the father was an American diplomat and lawyer of widereputation; the family stood for the best of which America is capable, and they were homeward bound to the American capital where their socialposition and the father's fame made them conspicuous. 

Armitage put down his cigar and bent toward Claiborne, speaking withquiet directness. 

"Captain Claiborne, I was introduced to you at Geneva by Mr. Singleton. You may have observed me several times previously at Venice, Borne, Florence, Paris, Berlin. I certainly saw you! I shall not deny that Iintentionally followed you, nor"--John Armitage smiled, then grew graveagain--"can I make any adequate apology for doing so. "

Claiborne looked at Armitage wonderingly. The man's attitude and tonewere wholly serious and compelled respect. Claiborne nodded and threwaway his cigar that he might give his whole attention to what Armitagemight have to say. 

"A man does not like to have his sister forming the acquaintances ofpersons who are not properly vouched for. Except for Singleton you knownothing of me; and Singleton knows very little of me, indeed. "

Claiborne nodded. He felt the color creeping into his cheeks consciouslyas Armitage touched upon this matter. 

"I speak to you as I do because it is your right to know who and what Iam, for I am not on the _King Edward_ by accident but by intention, and Iam going to Washington because your sister lives there. "

Claiborne smiled in spite of himself. 

"But, my dear sir, this is most extraordinary! I don't know that I careto hear any more; by listening I seem to be encouraging you to followus--it's altogether too unusual. It's almost preposterous!"

And Dick Claiborne frowned severely; but Armitage still met his eyesgravely. 

"It's only decent for a man to give his references when it's natural forthem to be required. I was educated at Trinity College, Toronto. I spenta year at the Harvard Law School. And I am not a beggar utterly. I own aranch in Montana that actually pays and a thousand acres of the bestwheat land in Nebraska. At the Bronx Loan and Trust Company in New York Ihave securities to a considerable amount, --I am perfectly willing thatany one who is at all interested should inquire of the Trust Companyofficers as to my standing with them. If I were asked to state myoccupation I should have to say that I am a cattle herder--what you calla cowboy. I can make my living in the practice of the business almostanywhere from New Mexico north to the Canadian line. I flatter myselfthat I am pretty good at it, " and John Armitage smiled and took acigarette from a box on the table and lighted it. 

Dick Claiborne was greatly interested in what Armitage had said, and hestruggled between an inclination to encourage further confidence and afeeling that he should, for Shirley's sake, make it clear to thisyoung-stranger that it was of no consequence to any member of theClaiborne family who he was or what might be the extent of his lands orthe unimpeachable character of his investments. But it was not so easy toturn aside a fellow who was so big of frame and apparently so sane and sosteady of purpose as this Armitage. And there was, too, the furtherconsideration that while Armitage was volunteering gratuitousinformation, and assuming an interest in his affairs by the Claibornesthat was wholly unjustified, there was also the other side of the matter:that his explanations proceeded from motives of delicacy that werepraiseworthy. Dick was puzzled, and piqued besides, to find that hisresources as a big protecting brother were so soon exhausted. WhatArmitage was asking was the right to seek his sister Shirley's hand inmarriage, and the thing was absurd. Moreover, who was John Armitage?

The question startled Claiborne into a realization of the fact thatArmitage had volunteered considerable information without at allanswering this question. Dick Claiborne was a human being, and curious. 

"Pardon me, " he asked, "but are you an Englishman?"

"I am not, " answered Armitage. "I have been so long in America that Ifeel as much at home there as anywhere--but I am neither English norAmerican by birth; I am, on the other hand--"

He hesitated for the barest second, and Claiborne was sensible of anintensification of interest; now at last there was to be a revelationthat amounted to something. 

"On the other hand, " Armitage repeated, "I was born at Fontainebleau, where my parents lived for only a few months; but I do not consider thatthat fact makes me a Frenchman. My mother is dead. My father died--veryrecently. I have been in America enough to know that a foreigner is oftenunder suspicion--particularly if he have a title! My distinction is thatI am a foreigner without one!" John Armitage laughed. 

"It is, indeed, a real merit, " declared Dick, who felt that something wasexpected of him. In spite of himself, he found much to like in JohnArmitage. He particularly despised sham and pretense, and he had beenwon by the evident sincerity of Armitage's wish to appear well in hiseyes. 

"And now, " said Armitage, "I assure you that I am not in the habit oftalking so much about myself--and if you will overlook this offense Ipromise not to bore you again. "

"I have been interested, " remarked Dick; "and, " he added, "I can not doless than thank you, Mr. Armitage. "

Armitage began talking of the American army--its strength andweaknesses--with an intimate knowledge that greatly surprised andinterested the young officer; and when they separated presently it waswith a curious mixture of liking and mystification that Claibornereviewed their talk. 

The next day brought heavy weather, and only hardened sea-goers wereabroad. Armitage, breakfasting late, was not satisfied that he had actedwisely in speaking to Captain Claiborne; but he had, at any rate, easedin some degree his own conscience, and he had every intention of seeingall that he could of Shirley Claiborne during these days of theirfellow-voyaging. 

CHAPTER VII

ON THE DARK DECK

Ease, of all good gifts the best, War and wave at last decree:Love alone denies us rest, Crueler than sword or sea. 

William Watson. 

"I am Columbus every time I cross, " said Shirley. "What lies out there inthe west is an undiscovered country. "

"Then I shall have to take the part of the rebellious and doubting crew. There is no America, and we're sure to get into trouble if we don't turnback. "

"You shall be clapped into irons and fed on bread and water, and turnedover to the Indians as soon as we reach land. "

"Don't starve me! Let me hang from the yard-arm at once, or walk theplank. I choose the hour immediately after dinner for my obsequies!"

"Choose a cheerfuller word!" pleaded Shirley. 

"I am sorry to suggest mortality, but I was trying to let my imaginationplay a little on the eternal novelty of travel, and you have dropped medown 'full faddom five. '"

"I'm sorry, but I have only revealed an honest tendency of character. Piracy is probably a more profitable line of business than discovery. Discoverers benefit mankind at great sacrifice and expense, and diebefore they can receive the royal thanks. A pirate's business is alldone over the counter on a strictly cash basis. "

They were silent for a moment, continuing their tramp. Pair weather waspeopling the decks. Dick Claiborne was engrossed with a vivaciousCalifornia girl, and Shirley saw him only at meals; but he and Armitageheld night sessions in the smoking-room, with increased liking on bothsides. 

"Armitage isn't a bad sort, " Dick admitted to Shirley. "He's either anawful liar, or he's seen a lot of the world. "

"Of course, he has to travel to sell his glassware, " observed Shirley. "I'm surprised at your seeming intimacy with a mere 'peddler, '--and youan officer in the finest cavalry in the world. "

"Well, if he's a peddler he's a high-class one--probably the juniormember of the firm that owns the works. "

Armitage saw something of all the Claibornes every day in the pleasantintimacy of ship life, and Hilton Claiborne found the young man aninteresting talker. Judge Claiborne is, as every one knows, thebest-posted American of his time in diplomatic history; and when theywere together Armitage suggested topics that were well calculated toawaken the old lawyer's interest. 

"The glass-blower's a deep one, all right, " remarked Dick to Shirley. "Hejollies me occasionally, just to show there's no hard feeling; then hejollies the governor; and when I saw our mother footing it on his armthis afternoon I almost fell in a faint. I wish you'd hold on to himtight till we're docked. My little friend from California is crazy abouthim--and I haven't dared tell her he's only a drummer; such a fling wouldbe unchivalrous of me--"

"It would, Richard. Be a generous foe--whether--whether you can afford tobe or not!"

"My sister--my own sister says this to me! This is quite the unkindest. I'm going to offer myself to the daughter of the redwoods at once. "

Shirley and Armitage talked--as people will on ship-board--of everythingunder the sun. Shirley's enthusiasms were in themselves interesting; butshe was informed in the world's larger affairs, as became the daughter ofa man who was an authority in such matters, and found it pleasant todiscuss them with Armitage. He felt the poetic quality in her; it wasthat which had first appealed to him; but he did not know that somethingof the same sort in himself touched her; it was enough for those daysthat he was courteous and amusing, and gained a trifle in her eyes fromthe fact that he had no tangible background. 

Then came the evening of the fifth day. They were taking a turn afterdinner on the lighted deck. The spring stars hung faint and far throughthin clouds and the wind was keen from the sea. A few passengers wereout; the deck stewards went about gathering up rugs and chairs for thenight. 

"Time oughtn't to be reckoned at all at sea, so that people who feelthemselves getting old might sail forth into the deep and defy the oldman with the hour-glass. "

"I like the idea. Such people could become fishers--permanently, and grow very wise from so much brain food. "

"They wouldn't eat, Mr. Armitage. Brain-food forsooth! You talk like abreakfast-food advertisement. My idea--mine, please note--is for suchfortunate people to sail in pretty little boats with orange-tinted sailsand pick up lost dreams. I got a hint of that in a pretty poem once--

"'Time seemed to pause a little pace, I heard a dream go by. '"

"But out here in mid-ocean a little boat with lateen sails wouldn't havemuch show. And dreams passing over--the idea is pretty, and is creditableto your imagination. But I thought your fancy was more militant. Now, forexample, you like battle pictures--" he said, and paused inquiringly. 

She looked at him quickly. 

"How do you know I do?"

"You like Detaille particularly. "

"Am I to defend my taste?--what's the answer, if you don't mind?"

"Detaille is much to my liking, also; but I prefer Flameng, as a strictlypersonal matter. That was a wonderful collection of military and battlepictures shown in Paris last winter. "

She half withdrew her hand from his arm, and turned away. The sea windsdid not wholly account for the sudden color in her cheeks. She had seenArmitage in Paris--in cafés, at the opera, but not at the greatexhibition of world-famous battle pictures; yet undoubtedly he had seenher; and she remembered with instant consciousness the hours ofabsorption she had spent before those canvases. 

"It was a public exhibition, I believe; there was no great harm in seeingit. "

"No; there certainly was not!" He laughed, then was serious at once. Shirley's tense, arrested figure, her bright, eager eyes, her partedlips, as he saw her before the battle pictures in the gallery at Paris, came up before him and gave him pause. He could not play upon that stolenglance or tease her curiosity in respect to it. If this were a shipflirtation, it might be well enough; but the very sweetness andopen-heartedness of her youth shielded her. It seemed to him in thatmoment a contemptible and unpardonable thing that he had followedher about--and caught her, there at Paris, in an exalted mood, to whichshe had been wrought by the moving incidents of war. 

"I was in Paris during the exhibition, " he said quietly. "Ormsby, theAmerican painter--the man who did the _High Tide at Gettysburg_--is anacquaintance of mine. "

"Oh!"

It was Ormsby's painting that had particularly captivated Shirley. Shehad returned to it day after day; and the thought that Armitage had takenadvantage of her deep interest in Pickett's charging gray line wasannoying, and she abruptly changed the subject. 

Shirley had speculated much as to the meaning of Armitage's remark at thecarriage door in Geneva--that he expected the slayer of the old Austrianprime minister to pass that way. Armitage had not referred to the crimein any way in his talks with her on the _King Edward_; theirconversations had been pitched usually in a light and frivolous key, orif one were disposed to be serious the other responded in a note oflevity. 

"We're all imperialists at heart, " said Shirley, referring to a talkbetween them earlier in the day. "We Americans are hungry for empire;we're simply waiting for the man on horseback to gallop down Broadway andup Fifth Avenue with a troop of cavalry at his heels and proclaim the newdispensation. "

"And before he'd gone a block a big Irish policeman would arrest him fordisorderly conduct or disturbing the peace, or for giving a show withouta license, and the republic would continue to do business at the oldstand. "

"No; the police would have been bribed in advance, and would deliver thekeys of the city to the new emperor at the door of St. Patrick'sCathedral, and his majesty would go to Sherry's for luncheon, and sign afew decrees, and order the guillotine set up in Union Square. Do youfollow me, Mr. Armitage?"

"Yes; to the very steps of the guillotine, Miss Claiborne. But thelooting of the temples and the plundering of banks--if the thing is boundto be--I should like to share in the general joy. But I have an idea, Miss Claiborne, " he exclaimed, as though with inspiration. 

"Yes--you have an idea--"

"Let me be the man on horseback; and you might be--"

"Yes--the suspense is terrible!--what might I be, your Majesty?"

"Well, we should call you--"

He hesitated, and she wondered whether he would be bold enough to meetthe issue offered by this turn of their nonsense. 

"I seem to give your Majesty difficulty; the silence isn't flattering, "she said mockingly; but she was conscious of a certain excitement as shewalked the deck beside him. 

"Oh, pardon me! The difficulty is only as to title--you would, of course, occupy the dais; but whether you should be queen or empress--that's therub! If America is to be an empire, then of course you would be anempress. So there you are answered. "

They passed laughingly on to the other phases of the matter in thewhimsical vein that was natural in her, and to which he responded. Theywatched the lights of an east-bound steamer that was passing near. Theexchange of rocket signals--that pretty and graceful parley between shipsthat pass in the night--interested them for a moment. Then the decklights went out so suddenly it seemed that a dark curtain had descendedand shut them in with the sea. 

"Accident to the dynamo--we shall have the lights on in a moment!"shouted the deck officer, who stood near, talking to a passenger. 

"Shall we go in?" asked Armitage. 

"Yes, it is getting cold, " replied Shirley. 

For a moment they were quite alone on the dark deck, though they heardvoices near at hand. 

They were groping their way toward the main saloon, where they had leftMr. And Mrs. Claiborne, when Shirley was aware of some one lurking near. A figure seemed to be crouching close by, and she felt its furtivemovements and knew that it had passed but remained a few feet away. Herhand on Armitage's arm tightened. 

"What is that?--there is some one following us, " she said. 

At the same moment Armitage, too, became aware of the presence of astooping figure behind him. He stopped abruptly and faced about. 

"Stand quite still, Miss Claiborne. "

He peered about, and instantly, as though waiting for his voice, a tallfigure rose not a yard from him and a long arm shot high above his headand descended swiftly. They were close to the rail, and a roll of theship sent Armitage off his feet and away from his assailant. Shirleyat the same moment threw out her hands, defensively or for support, andclutched the arm and shoulder of the man who had assailed Armitage. Hehad driven a knife at John Armitage, and was poising himself for anotherattempt when Shirley seized his arm. As he drew back a fold of his cloakstill lay in Shirley's grasp, and she gave a sharp little cry as thefigure, with a quick jerk, released the cloak and slipped away into theshadows. A moment later the lights were restored, and she saw Armitageregarding ruefully a long slit in the left arm of his ulster. 

"Are you hurt? What has happened?" she demanded. 

"It must have been a sea-serpent, " he replied, laughing. 

The deck officer regarded them curiously as they blinked in the glare oflight, and asked whether anything was wrong. Armitage turned the matteroff. 

"I guess it was a sea-serpent, " he said. "It bit a hole in my ulster, forwhich I am not grateful. " Then in a lower tone to Shirley: "That wascertainly a strange proceeding. I am sorry you were startled; and I amunder greatest obligations to you, Miss Claiborne. Why, you actuallypulled the fellow away!"

"Oh, no, " she returned lightly, but still breathing hard; "it was theinstinct of self-preservation. I was unsteady on my feet for a moment, and sought something to take hold of. That pirate was the nearest thing, and I caught hold of his cloak; I'm sure it was a cloak, and that makesme sure he was a human villain of some sort. He didn't feel in the leastlike a sea-serpent. But some one tried to injure you--it is no jestingmatter--"

"Some lunatic escaped from the steerage, probably. I shall report it tothe officers. "

"Yes, it should be reported, " said Shirley. 

"It was very strange. Why, the deck of the _King Edward_ is the safestplace in the world; but it's something to have had hold of a sea-serpent, or a pirate! I hope you will forgive me for bringing you into such anencounter; but if you hadn't caught his cloak--"

Armitage was uncomfortable, and anxious to allay her fears. The incidentwas by no means trivial, as he knew. Passengers on the greattransatlantic steamers are safeguarded by every possible means; and thefact that he had been attacked in the few minutes that the deck lightshad been out of order pointed to an espionage that was both close anddaring. He was greatly surprised and more shaken than he wished Shirleyto believe. The thing was disquieting enough, and it could not butimpress her strangely that he, of all the persons on board, should havebeen the object of so unusual an assault. He was in the disagreeableplight of having subjected her to danger, and as they entered thebrilliant saloon he freed himself of the ulster with its telltale gashand sought to minimize her impression of the incident. 

Shirley did not refer to the matter again, but resolved to keep her owncounsel. She felt that any one who would accept the one chance in athousand of striking down an enemy on a steamer deck must be animated byvery bitter hatred. She knew that to speak of the affair to her father orbrother would be to alarm them and prejudice them against John Armitage, about whom her brother, at least, had entertained doubts. And it is notreassuring as to a man of whom little or nothing is known that he ismenaced by secret enemies. 

The attack had found Armitage unprepared and off guard, but with swiftreaction his wits were at work. He at once sought the purser andscrutinized every name on the passenger list. It was unlikely that asteerage passenger could reach the saloon deck unobserved; a second cabinpassenger might do so, however, and he sought among the names in thesecond cabin list for a clue. He did not believe that Chauvenet or Durandhad boarded the _King Edward_. He himself had made the boat only by aquick dash, and he had left those two gentlemen at Geneva with much toconsider. 

It was, however, quite within the probabilities that they would send someone to watch him, for the two men whom he had overheard in the dark houseon the Boulevard Froissart were active and resourceful rascals, he had nodoubt. Whether they would be able to make anything of the cigarette casehe had stupidly left behind he could not conjecture; but the importanceof recovering the packet he had cut from Chauvenet's coat was not atrifle that rogues of their caliber would ignore. There was, the pursersaid, a sick man in the second cabin, who had kept close to his berth. The steward believed the man to be a continental of some sort, who spokebad German. He had taken the boat at Liverpool, paid for his passage ingold, and, complaining of illness, retired, evidently for the voyage. Hisname was Peter Ludovic, and the steward described him in detail. 

"Big fellow; bullet head; bristling mustache; small eyes--"

"That will do, " said Armitage, grinning at the ease with which heidentified the man. 

"You understand that it is wholly irregular for us to let such a matterpass without acting--" said the purser. 

"It would serve no purpose, and might do harm. I will take theresponsibility. "

And John Armitage made a memorandum in his notebook:

"_Zmai_--; _travels as Peter Ludovic_. "

Armitage carried the envelope which he had cut from Chauvenet's coatpinned into an inner pocket of his waistcoat, and since boarding the_King Edward _he had examined it twice daily to see that it was intact. The three red wax seals were in blank, replacing those of like size thathad originally been affixed to the envelope; and at once after the attackon the dark deck he opened the packet and examined the papers--somehalf-dozen sheets of thin linen, written in a clerk's clear hand inblack ink. There had been no mistake in the matter; the packet whichChauvenet had purloined from the old prime minister at Vienna had comeagain into Armitage's hands. He was daily tempted to destroy it andcast it in bits to the sea winds; but he was deterred by the remembranceof his last interview with the old prime minister. 

"Do something for Austria--something for the Empire. " These phrasesrepeated themselves over and over again in his mind until they rose andfell with the cadence of the high, wavering voice of the CardinalArchbishop of Vienna as he chanted the mass of requiem for CountFerdinand von Stroebel. 

CHAPTER VIII

"THE KING IS DEAD; LONG LIVE THE KING"

Low he lies, yet high and greatLooms he, lying thus in state. --How exalted o'er ye whenDead, my lords and gentlemen!

--James Whitcomb Riley. 

John Armitage lingered in New York for a week, not to press theClaibornes too closely, then went to Washington. He wrote himself down onthe register of the New American as John Armitage, Cinch Tight, Montana, and took a suite of rooms high up, with an outlook that sweptPennsylvania Avenue. It was on the evening of a bright April day that hethus established himself; and after he had unpacked his belongings hestood long at the window and watched the lights leap out of the dusk overthe city. He was in Washington because Shirley Claiborne lived there, andhe knew that even if he wished to do so he could no longer throw anair of inadvertence into his meetings with her. He had been very lonelyin those days when he first saw her abroad; the sight of her had liftedhis mood of depression; and now, after those enchanted hours at sea, hiscoming to Washington had been inevitable. 

Many things passed through his mind as he stood at the open window. Hislife, he felt, could never be again as it had been before, and he sigheddeeply as he recalled his talk with the old prime minister at Geneva. Then he laughed quietly as he remembered Chauvenet and Durand and thedark house on the Boulevard Froissart; but the further recollection ofthe attack made on his life on the deck of the _King Edward_ sobered him, and he turned away from the window impatiently. He had seen the sicksecond-cabin passenger leave the steamer at New York, but had taken notrouble either to watch or to avoid him. Very likely the man was underinstructions, and had been told to follow the Claibornes home; and thethought of their identification with himself by his enemies angered him. Chauvenet was likely to appear in Washington at any time, and wouldundoubtedly seek the Claibornes at once. The fact that the man was ascoundrel might, in some circumstances, have afforded Armitage comfort, but here again Armitage's mood grew dark. Jules Chauvenet was undoubtedlya rascal of a shrewd and dangerous type; but who, pray, was JohnArmitage?

The bell in his entry rang, and he flashed on the lights and opened thedoor. 

"Well, I like this! Setting yourself up here in gloomy splendor and neversaying a word. You never deserved to have any friends, John Armitage!"

"Jim Sanderson, come in!" Armitage grasped the hands of a red-beardedgiant of forty, the possessor of alert brown eyes and a big voice. 

"It's my rural habit of reading the register every night in search ofconstituents that brings me here. They said they guessed you were in, soI just came up to see whether you were opening a poker game or had cometo sneak a claim past the watch-dog of the treasury. "

The caller threw himself into a chair and rolled a fat, unlighted cigarabout in his mouth. "You're a peach, all right, and as offensively haleand handsome as ever. When are you going to the ranch?"

"Well, not just immediately; I want to sample the flesh-pots for a day ortwo. "

"You're getting soft, --that's what's the matter with you! You're afraidof the spring zephyrs on the Montana range. Well, I'll admit that it'srather more diverting here. "

"There is no debating that, Senator. How do you like being a statesman?It was so sudden and all that. I read an awful roast of you in an Englishpaper. They took your election to the Senate as another evidence ofthe complete domination of our politics by the plutocrats. "

Sanderson winked prodigiously. 

"The papers _have_ rather skinned me; but on the whole, I'll do verywell. They say it isn't respectable to be a senator these days, but theyoughtn't to hold it up against a man that he's rich. If the Lord putsilver in the mountains of Montana and let me dig it out, it's nothingagainst me, is it?"

"Decidedly not! And if you want to invest it in a senatorship it's theLord's hand again. "

"Why sure!" and the Senator from Montana winked once more. "But it'sexpensive. I've got to be elected again next winter--I'm only filling outBillings' term--and I'm not sure I can go up against it. "

"But you are nothing if not unselfish. If the good of the country demandsit you'll not falter, if I know you. "

"There's hot water heat in this hotel, so please turn off the hot air. Isaw your foreman in Helena the last time I was out there, and he wassober. I mention the fact, knowing that I'm jeopardizing my reputationfor veracity, but it's the Lord's truth. Of course you spent Christmas atthe old home in England--one of those yule-log and plum-puddingChristmases you read of in novels. You Englishmen--"

"My dear Sanderson, don't call me English! I've told you a dozen timesthat I'm not English. "

"So you did; so you did! I'd forgotten that you're so damned sensitiveabout it;" and Sanderson's eyes regarded Armitage intently for a moment, as though he were trying to recall some previous discussion of theyoung man's nativity. 

"I offer you free swing at the bar, Senator. May I summon a Montanacocktail? You taught me the ingredients once--three dashes orangebitters; two dashes acid phosphate; half a jigger of whisky; half ajigger of Italian vermuth. You undermined the constitutions of halfMontana with that mess. "

Sanderson reached for his hat with sudden dejection. 

"The sprinkling cart for me! I've got a nerve specialist engaged by theyear to keep me out of sanatoriums. See here, I want you to go with usto-night to the Secretary of State's push. Not many of the Montana boysget this far from home, and I want you for exhibition purposes. Say, John, when I saw Cinch Tight, Montana, written on the register down thereit increased my circulation seven beats! You're all right, and I guessyou're about as good an American as they make--anywhere--John Armitage!"

The function for which the senator from Montana provided an invitationfor Armitage was a large affair in honor of several new ambassadors. Atten o'clock Senator Sanderson was introducing Armitage right and leftas one of his representative constituents. Armitage and he ownedadjoining ranches in Montana, and Sanderson called upon his neighbor tostand up boldly for their state before the minions of effete monarchies. 

Mrs. Sanderson had asked Armitage to return to her for a little Montanatalk, as she put it, after the first rush of their entrance was over, andas he waited in the drawing-room for an opportunity of speaking to her, he chatted with Franzel, an attaché of the Austrian embassy, to whomSanderson had introduced him. Franzel was a gloomy young man with amonocle, and he was waiting for a particular girl, who happened to be thedaughter of the Spanish Ambassador. And, this being his object, he hadchosen his position with care, near the door of the drawing-room, andArmitage shared for the moment the advantage that lay in the Austrian'spoint of view. Armitage had half expected that the Claibornes would bepresent at a function as comprehensive of the higher official world asthis, and he intended asking Mrs. Sanderson if she knew them as soon asopportunity offered. The Austrian attaché proved tiresome, and Armitagewas about to drop him, when suddenly he caught sight of Shirley Claiborneat the far end of the broad hall. Her head was turned partly toward him;he saw her for an instant through the throng; then his eyes fell uponChauvenet at her side, talking with liveliest animation. He was not morethan her own height, and his profile presented the clean, sharp effect ofa cameo. The vivid outline of his dark face held Armitage's eyes; then asShirley passed on through an opening in the crowd her escort turned, holding the way open for her, and Armitage met the man's gaze. 

It was with an accented gravity that Armitage nodded his head to somedeclaration of the melancholy attaché at this moment. He had known whenhe left Geneva that he had not done with Jules Chauvenet; but the man'sprompt appearance surprised Armitage. He ran over the names of thesteamers by which Chauvenet might easily have sailed from either a Germanor a French port and reached Washington quite as soon as himself. Chauvenet was in Washington, at any rate, and not only there, butsocially accepted and in the good graces of Shirley Claiborne. 

The somber attaché was speaking of the Japanese. 

"They must be crushed--crushed, " said Franzel. The two had beenconversing in French. 

"Yes, _he_ must be crushed, " returned Armitage absent-mindedly, inEnglish; then, remembering himself, he repeated the affirmation inFrench, changing the pronoun. 

Mrs. Sanderson was now free. She was a pretty, vivacious woman, muchyounger than her stalwart husband, --a college graduate whom he had foundteaching school near one of his silver mines. 

"Welcome once more, constituent! We're proud to see you, I can tell you. Our host owns some marvelous tapestries and they're hung out to-night forthe world to see. " She guided Armitage toward the Secretary's gallery onan upper floor. Their host was almost as famous as a connoisseur as forhis achievements in diplomacy, and the gallery was a large apartment inwhich every article of furniture, as well as the paintings, tapestriesand specimens of pottery, was the careful choice of a thoroughlycultivated taste. 

"It isn't merely an art gallery; it's the most beautiful room inAmerica, " murmured Mrs. Sanderson. 

"I can well believe it. There's my favorite Vibert, --I wondered what hadbecome of it. "

"It isn't surprising that the Secretary is making a great reputationby his dealings with foreign powers. It's a poor ambassador who couldnot be persuaded after an hour in this splendid room. The ordinaryaffairs of life should not be mentioned here. A king's coronation wouldnot be out of place, --in fact, there's a chair in the corner against thatGobelin that would serve the situation. The old gentleman by that cabinetis the Baron von Marhof, the Ambassador from Austria-Hungary. He's abrother-in-law of Count von Stroebel, who was murdered so horribly in arailway carriage a few weeks ago. "

"Ah, to be sure! I haven't seen the Baron in years. He has changedlittle. "

"Then you knew him, --in the old country?"

"Yes; I used to see him--when I was a boy, " remarked Armitage. 

Mrs. Sanderson glanced at Armitage sharply. She had dined at his ranchhouse in Montana and knew that he lived like a gentleman, --that hishouse, its appointments and service were unusual for a western ranchman. And she recalled, too, that she and her husband had often speculated asto Armitage's antecedents and history, without arriving at any conclusionin regard to him. 

The room had slowly filled and they strolled about, dividing attentionbetween distinguished personages and the not less celebrated works ofart. 

"Oh, by the way, Mr. Armitage, there's the girl I have chosen for you tomarry. I suppose it would be just as well for you to meet her now, thoughthat dark little foreigner seems to be monopolizing her. "

"I am wholly agreeable, " laughed Armitage. "The sooner the better, and bedone with it. "

"Don't be so frivolous. There--you can look safely now. She's stopped tospeak to that bald and pink Justice of the Supreme Court, --the girl withthe brown eyes and hair, --have a care!"

Shirley and Chauvenet left the venerable Justice, and Mrs. Sandersonintercepted them at once. 

"To think of all these beautiful things in our own America!" exclaimedShirley. "And you, Mr. Armitage, --"

"Among the other curios, Miss Claiborne, " laughed John, taking her hand. 

"But I haven't introduced you yet"--began Mrs. Sanderson, puzzled. 

"No; the _King Edward_ did that. We crossed together. Oh, MonsieurChauvenet, let me present Mr. Armitage, " said Shirley, seeing that themen had not spoken. 

The situation amused Armitage and he smiled rather more broadly than wasnecessary in expressing his pleasure at meeting Monsieur Chauvenet. Theyregarded each other with the swift intentness of men who are used to thesharp exercise of their eyes; and when Armitage turned toward Shirley andMrs. Sanderson, he was aware that Chauvenet continued to regard him withfixed gaze. 

"Miss Claiborne is a wonderful sailor; the Atlantic is a littletumultuous at times in the spring, but she reported to the captain everyday. "

"Miss Claiborne is nothing if not extraordinary, " declared Mrs. Sandersonwith frank admiration. 

"The word seems to have been coined for her, " said Chauvenet, his whiteteeth showing under his thin black mustache. 

"And still leaves the language distinguished chiefly for its poverty, "added Armitage; and the men bowed to Shirley and then to Mrs. Sanderson, and again to each other. It was like a rehearsal of some trifle in acomedy. 

"How charming!" laughed Mrs. Sanderson. "And this lovely room is just theplace for it. "

They were still talking together as Franzel, with whom Armitage hadspoken below, entered hurriedly. He held a crumpled note, whose contents, it seemed, had shaken him out of his habitual melancholy composure. 

"Is Baron von Marhof in the room?" he asked of Armitage, fumblingnervously at his monocle. 

The Austrian Ambassador, with several ladies, and led by SenatorSanderson, was approaching. 

The attaché hurried to his chief and addressed him in a low tone. TheAmbassador stopped, grew very white, and stared at the messenger for amoment in blank unbelief. 

The young man now repeated, in English, in a tone that could be heard inall parts of the hushed room:

"His Majesty, the Emperor Johann Wilhelm, died suddenly to-night, inVienna, " he said, and gave his arm to his chief. 

It was a strange place for the delivery of such a message, and thestrangeness of it was intensified to Shirley by the curious glance thatpassed between John Armitage and Jules Chauvenet. Shirley rememberedafterward that as the attaché's words rang out in the room, Armitagestarted, clenched his hands, and caught his breath in a manner veryuncommon in men unless they are greatly moved. The Ambassador walkeddirectly from the room with bowed head, and every one waited in silentsympathy until he had gone. 

The word passed swiftly through the great house, and through the openwindows the servants were heard crying loudly for Baron von Marhof'scarriage in the court below. 

"The King is dead; long live the King!" murmured Shirley. 

"Long live the King!" repeated Chauvenet and Mrs. Sanderson, in unison;and then Armitage, as though mastering a phrase they were teaching him, raised his head and said, with an unction that surprised them, "Long livethe Emperor and King! God save Austria!"

Then he turned to Shirley with a smile. 

"It is very pleasant to see you on your own ground. I hope your familyare well. "

"Thank you; yes. My father and mother are here somewhere. "

"And Captain Claiborne?"

"He's probably sitting up all night to defend Fort Myer from the craftsand assaults of the enemy. I hope you will come to see us, Mr. Armitage. "

"Thank you; you are very kind, " he said gravely. "I shall certainly givemyself the pleasure very soon. "

As Shirley passed on with Chauvenet Mrs. Sanderson launched upon thegirl's praises, but she found him suddenly preoccupied. 

"The girl has gone to your head. Why didn't you tell me you knew theClaibornes?"

"I don't remember that you gave me a chance; but I'll say now that Iintend to know them better. "

She bade him take her to the drawing-room. As they went down through thehouse they found that the announcement of the Emperor Johann Wilhelm'sdeath had cast a pall upon the company. All the members of the diplomaticcorps had withdrawn at once as a mark of respect and sympathy for Baronvon Marhof, and at midnight the ball-room held all of the company thatremained. Armitage had not sought Shirley again. He found a room that hadbeen set apart for smokers, threw himself into a chair, lighted a cigarand stared at a picture that had no interest for him whatever. He putdown his cigar after a few whiffs, and his hand went to the pocket inwhich he had usually carried his cigarette case. 

"Ah, Mr. Armitage, may I offer you a cigarette?"

He turned to find Chauvenet close at his side. He had not heard the manenter, but Chauvenet had been in his thoughts and he started slightly atfinding him so near. Chauvenet held in his white-gloved hand a goldcigarette case, which he opened with a deliberate care that displayed itsembellished side. The smooth golden surface gleamed in the light, thehelmet in blue, and the white falcon flashed in Armitage's eyes. Themeeting was clearly by intention, and a slight smile played aboutChauvenet's lips in his enjoyment of the situation. Armitage smiled up athim in amiable acknowledgment of his courtesy, and rose. 

"You are very considerate, Monsieur. I was just at the moment regrettingour distinguished host's oversight in providing cigars alone. Allow me!"

He bent forward, took the outstretched open case into his own hands, removed a cigarette, snapped the case shut and thrust it into histrousers pocket, --all, as it seemed, at a single stroke. 

"My dear sir, " began Chauvenet, white with rage. 

"My dear Monsieur Chauvenet, " said Armitage, striking a match, "I amindebted to you for returning a trinket that I value highly. "

The flame crept half the length of the stick while they regarded eachother; then Armitage raised it to the tip of his cigarette, lifted hishead and blew a cloud of smoke. 

"Are you able to prove your property, Mr. Armitage?" demanded Chauvenetfuriously. 

"My dear sir, they have a saying in this country that possession is ninepoints of the law. You had it--now I have it--wherefore it must be mine!"

Chauvenet's rigid figure suddenly relaxed; he leaned against a chair witha return of his habitual nonchalant air, and waved his hand carelessly. 

"Between gentlemen--so small a matter!"

"To be sure--the merest trifle, " laughed Armitage with entire good humor. 

"And where a gentleman has the predatory habits of a burglar andhousebreaker--"

"Then lesser affairs, such as picking up trinkets--"

"Come naturally--quite so!" and Chauvenet twisted his mustache with anair of immense satisfaction. 

"But the genial art of assassination--there's a business that requires acalculating hand, my dear Monsieur Chauvenet!"

Chauvenet's hand went again to his lip. 

"To be sure!" he ejaculated with zest. 

"But alone--alone one can do little. For larger operations onerequires--I should say--courageous associates. Now in my affairs--wouldyou believe me?--I am obliged to manage quite alone. "

"How melancholy!" exclaimed Chauvenet. 

"It is indeed very sad!" and Armitage sighed, tossed his cigarette intothe smoldering grate and bade Chauvenet a ceremonious good night. 

"Ah, we shall meet again, I dare say!"

"The thought does credit to a generous nature!" responded Armitage, andpassed out into the house. 

CHAPTER IX

"THIS IS AMERICA, ME. ARMITAGE"

Lo! as I came to the crest of the hill, the sun on the heights had arisen, The dew on the grass was shining, and white was the mist on the vale;Like a lark on the wing of the dawn I sang; like a guiltless one freed from his prison, As backward I gazed through the valley, and saw no one on my trail. 

--L. Frank Tooker. 

Spring, planting green and gold banners on old Virginia battle-fields, crossed the Potomac and occupied Washington. 

Shirley Claiborne called for her horse and rode forth to greet theconqueror. The afternoon was keen and sunny, and she had turnedimpatiently from a tea, to which she was committed, to seek the open. Thecall of the outdoor gods sang in her blood. Daffodils and crocuses liftedyellow flames and ruddy torches from every dooryard. She had pinned aspray of arbutus to the lapel of her tan riding-coat; it spoke to her ofthe blue horizons of the near Virginia hills. The young buds in themaples hovered like a mist in the tree-tops. Towering over all, theincomparable gray obelisk climbed to the blue arch and brought it nearerearth. Washington, the center of man's hope, is also, in spring, thecapital of the land of heart's desire. 

With a groom trailing after her, Shirley rode toward Rock Creek, --thatrippling, murmuring, singing trifle of water that laughs day and night atthe margin of the beautiful city, as though politics and statesmanshipwere the hugest joke in the world. The flag on the Austro-Hungarianembassy hung at half-mast and symbols of mourning fluttered from theentire front of the house. Shirley lifted her eyes gravely as she passed. Her thoughts flew at once to the scene at the house of the Secretary ofState a week before, when Baron von Marhof had learned of the death ofhis sovereign; and by association she thought, too, of Armitage, and ofhis, look and voice as he said:

"Long live the Emperor and King! God save Austria!"

Emperors and kings! They were as impossible today as a snowstorm. Thegrave ambassadors as they appeared at great Washington functions, wearingtheir decorations, always struck her as being particularly distinguished. It just now occurred to her that they were all linked to the crown andscepter; but she dismissed the whole matter and bowed to two dark ladiesin a passing victoria with the quick little nod and bright smile thatwere the same for these titled members of the Spanish Ambassador'shousehold as for the young daughters of a western senator, whodemocratically waved their hands to her from a doorstep. 

Armitage came again to her mind. He had called at the Claiborne housetwice since the Secretary's ball, and she had been surprised to find howfully she accepted him as an American, now that he was on her own soil. He derived, too, a certain stability from the fact that the Sandersonsknew him; he was, indeed, an entirely different person since the MontanaSenator definitely connected him with an American landscape. She had kepther own counsel touching the scene on the dark deck of the _King Edward_, but it was not a thing lightly to be forgotten. She was half angry withherself this mellow afternoon to find how persistently Armitage came intoher thoughts, and how the knife-thrust on the steamer deck kept recurringin her mind and quickening her sympathy for a man of whom she knewso little; and she touched her horse impatiently with the crop and rodeinto the park at a gait that roused the groom to attention. 

At a bend of the road Chauvenet and Franzel, the attaché, swung intoview, mounted, and as they met, Chauvenet turned his horse and rodebeside her. 

"Ah, these American airs! This spring! Is it not good to be alive, MissClaiborne?"

"It is all of that!" she replied. It seemed to her that the day had notneeded Chauvenet's praise. 

"I had hoped to see you later at the Wallingford tea!" he continued. 

"No teas for me on a day like this! The thought of being indoors istragic!"

She wished that he would leave her, for she had ridden out into thespring sunshine to be alone. He somehow did not appear to advantage inhis riding-coat, --his belongings were too perfect. She had really enjoyedhis talk when they had met here and there abroad; but she was in no moodfor him now; and she wondered what he had lost by the transfer toAmerica. He ran on airily in French, speaking of the rush of great andsmall social affairs that marked the end of the season. 

"Poor Franzel is indeed _triste_. He is taking the death of JohannWilhelm quite hard. But here in America the death of an emperor seemsless important. A king or a peasant, what does it matter!"

"Better ask the robin in yonder budding chestnut tree, Monsieur. This isnot an hour for hard questions!"

"Ah, you are very cruel! You drive me back to poor, melancholy Franzel, who is indeed a funeral in himself. "

"That is very sad, Monsieur, "--and she smiled at him with mischief in hereyes. "My heart goes out to any one who is left to mourn--alone. "

He gathered his reins and drew up his horse, lifting his hat with aperfect gesture. 

"There are sadder blows than losing one's sovereign, Mademoiselle!" andhe shook his bared head mournfully and rode back to find his friend. 

She sought now her favorite bridle-paths and her heart was light with thesweetness and peace of the spring as she heard the rush and splash of thecreek, saw the flash of wings and felt the mystery of awakened lifethrobbing about her. The heart of a girl in spring is the home of dreams, and Shirley's heart overflowed with them, until her pulse thrilled andsang in quickening cadences. The wistfulness of April, the dream ofunfathomable things, shone in her brown eyes; and a girl with dreams inher eyes is the divinest work of the gods. Into this twentieth century, into the iron heart of cities, she still comes, and the clear, high starsof April nights and the pensive moon of September are glad because ofher. 

The groom marveled at the sudden changes of gait, the gallops that fellabruptly to a walk with the alterations of mood in the girl's heart, thepauses that marked a moment of meditation as she watched some greencurving bank, or a plunge of the mad little creek that sent a glory ofspray whitely into the sunlight. It grew late and the shadows of waningafternoon crept through the park. The crowd had hurried home to escapethe chill of the spring dusk, but she lingered on, reluctant to leave, and presently left her horse with the groom that she might walk alonebeside the creek in a place that was beautifully wild. About her lay anarrow strip of young maples and beyond this the wide park road wound atthe foot of a steep wooded cliff. The place was perfectly quiet save forthe splash and babble of the creek. 

Several minutes passed. Once she heard her groom speak to the horses, though she could not see him, but the charm of the place held her. Sheraised her eyes from the tumbling water before her and looked off throughthe maple tangle. Then she drew back quickly, and clasped her riding-croptightly. Some one had paused at the farther edge of the maple brake anddismounted, as she had, for a more intimate enjoyment of the place. Itwas John Armitage, tapping his riding-boot idly with his crop as heleaned against a tree and viewed the miniature valley. 

He was a little below her, so that she saw him quite distinctly, and caught a glimpse of his horse pawing, with arched neck, in thebridle-path behind him. She had no wish to meet him there and turned tosteal back to her horse when a movement in the maples below caught hereye. She paused, fascinated and alarmed by the cautious stir of theundergrowth. The air was perfectly quiet; the disturbance was not causedby the wind. Then the head and shoulders of a man were disclosed as hecrouched on hands and knees, watching Armitage. His small head and bigbody as he crept forward suggested to Shirley some fantastic monster oflegend, and her heart beat fast with terror as a knife flashed in hishand. He moved more rapidly toward the silent figure by the tree, andstill Shirley watched wide-eyed, her figure tense and trembling, the handthat held the crop half raised to her lips, while the dark form rose andpoised for a spring. 

Then she cried out, her voice ringing clear and high across the littlevale and sounding back from the cliff. 

"Oh! Oh!" and Armitage leaped forward and turned. His crop fell firstupon the raised hand, knocking the knife far into the trees, then uponthe face and shoulders of the Servian. The fellow turned and fled throughthe maple tangle, Armitage after him, and Shirley ran back toward thebridge where she had left her groom and met him half-way hurrying towardher. 

"What is it, Miss? Did you call?"

"No; it was nothing, Thomas--nothing at all, " and she mounted and turnedtoward home. 

Her heart was still pounding with excitement and she walked her horse togain composure. Twice, in circumstances most unusual and disquieting, shehad witnessed an attack on John Armitage by an unknown enemy. Sherecalled now a certain pathos of his figure as she first saw him leaningagainst the tree watching the turbulent little stream, and she wasimpatient to find how her sympathy went out to him. It made no differencewho John Armitage was; his enemy was a coward, and the horror of such amenace to a man's life appalled her. She passed a mounted policeman, whorecognized her and raised his hand in salute, but the idea of reportingthe strange affair in the strip of woodland occurred to her only to bedismissed. She felt that here was an ugly business that was not withinthe grasp of a park patrolman, and, moreover, John Armitage was entitledto pursue his own course in matters that touched his life so closely. Thethought of him reassured her; he was no simple boy to suffer such attacksto pass unchallenged; and so, dismissing him, she raised her head and sawhim gallop forth from a by-path and rein his horse beside her. 

"Miss Claiborne!"

The suppressed feeling in his tone made the moment tense and she saw thathis lips trembled. It was a situation that must have its quick relief, soshe said instantly, in a mockery of his own tone:

"Mr. Armitage!" She laughed. "I am almost caught in the dark. Theblandishments of spring have beguiled me. "

He looked at her with a quick scrutiny. It did not seem possible thatthis could be the girl who had called to him in warning scarce fiveminutes before; but he knew it had been she, --he would have known hervoice anywhere in the world. They rode silent beside the creek, which waslike a laughing companion seeking to mock them into a cheerier mood. Atan opening through the hills they saw the western horizon aglow in tintsof lemon deepening into gold and purple. Save for the riot of the brookthe world was at peace. She met his eyes for an instant, and theirgravity, and the firm lines in which his lips were set, showed that theshock of his encounter had not yet passed. 

"You must think me a strange person, Miss Claiborne. It seemsinexplicable that a man's life should be so menaced in a place like this. If you had not called to me--"

"Please don't speak of that! It was so terrible!"

"But I must speak of it! Once before the same attempt was made--thatnight on the _King Edward_. "

"Yes; I have not forgotten. "

"And to-day I have reason to believe that the same man watched hischance, for I have ridden here every day since I came, and he must havekept track of me. "

"But this is America, Mr. Armitage!"

"That does not help me with you. You have every reason to resent mybringing you into such dangers, --it is unpardonable--indefensible!"

She saw that he was greatly troubled. 

"But you couldn't help my being in the park to-day! I have often stoppedjust there before. It's a favorite place for meditations. If you know theman--"

"I know the man. "

"Then the law will certainly protect you, as you know very well. He was adreadful-looking person. The police can undoubtedly find and lock himup. "

She was seeking to minimize the matter, --to pass it off as a commonplaceaffair of every day. They were walking their horses; the groom followedstolidly behind. 

Armitage was silent, a look of great perplexity on his face. When hespoke he was quite calm. 

"Miss Claiborne, I must tell you that this is an affair in which I can'task help in the usual channels. You will pardon me if I seem to make amystery of what should be ordinarily a bit of business between myself andthe police; but to give publicity to these attempts to injure me just nowwould be a mistake. I could have caught that man there in the wood; but Ilet him go, for the reason--for the reason that I want the men back ofhim to show themselves before I act. But if it isn't presuming--"

He was quite himself again. His voice was steady and deep with the easeand assurance that she liked in him. She had marked to-day in hisearnestness, more than at any other time, a slight, an almostindistinguishable trace of another tongue in his English. 

"How am I to know whether it would be presuming?" she asked. 

"But I was going to say--"

"When rudely interrupted!" She was trying to make it easy for him to saywhatever he wished. 

"--that these troubles of mine are really personal. I have committed nocrime and am not fleeing from justice. "

She laughed and urged her horse into a gallop for a last stretch of roadnear the park limits. 

"How uninteresting! We expect a Montana ranchman to have a spectacularpast. "

"But not to carry it, I hope, to Washington. On the range I might becomea lawless bandit in the interest of picturesqueness; but here--"

"Here in the world of frock-coated statesmen nothing really interestingis to be expected. "

She walked her horse again. It occurred to her that he might wish anassurance of silence from her. What she had seen would make a capital bitof gossip, to say nothing of being material for the newspapers, and herconscience, as she reflected, grew uneasy at the thought of shieldinghim. She knew that her father and mother, and, even more strictly, herbrother, would close their doors on a man whose enemies followed him overseas and lay in wait for him in a peaceful park; but here she tested him. A man of breeding would not ask protection of a woman on whom he had noclaim, and it was certainly not for her to establish an understandingwith him in so strange and grave a matter. 

"It must be fun having a ranch with cattle on a thousand hills. I alwayswished my father would go in for a western place, but he can't travel sofar from home. Our ranch is in Virginia. "

"You have a Virginia farm? That is very interesting. "

"Yes; at Storm Springs. It's really beautiful down there, " she saidsimply. 

It was on his tongue to tell her that he, too, owned a bit of Virginiasoil, but he had just established himself as a Montana ranchman, and itseemed best not to multiply his places of residence. He had, moreover, forgotten the name of the county in which his preserve lay. He said, withtruth:

"I know nothing of Virginia or the South; but I have viewed the landscapefrom Arlington and some day I hope to go adventuring in the Virginiahills. "

"Then you should not overlook our valley. I am sure there must beadventures waiting for somebody down there. You can tell our place bythe spring lamb on the hillside. There's a huge inn that offers thelong-distance telephone and market reports and golf links and very goodhorses, and lots of people stop there as a matter of course in theirflight between Florida and Newport. They go up and down the coast likethe mercury in a thermometer--up when it's warm, down when it's cold. There's the secret of our mercurial temperament. "

A passing automobile frightened her horse, and he watched her perfectcoolness in quieting the animal with rein and voice. 

"He's just up from the farm and doesn't like town very much. But he shallgo home again soon, " she said as they rode on. 

"Oh, you go down to shepherd those spring lambs!" he exclaimed, withmisgiving in his heart. He had followed her across the sea and now shewas about to take flight again!

"Yes; and to escape from the tiresome business of trying to rememberpeople's names. "

"Then you reverse the usual fashionable process--you go south to meet therising mercury. "

"I hadn't thought of it, but that is so. I dearly love a hillside, withpines and cedars, and sloping meadows with sheep--and rides over mountainroads to the gate of dreams, where Spottswood's golden horseshoe knightsride out at you with a grand sweep of their plumed hats. Now what haveyou to say to that?"

"Nothing, but my entire approval, " he said. 

He dimly understood, as he left her in this gay mood, at the Claibornehouse, that she had sought to make him forget the lurking figure in thepark thicket and the dark deed thwarted there. It was her way ofconveying to him her dismissal of the incident, and it implied a greaterkindness than any pledge of secrecy. He rode away with grave eyes, and anew hope filled his heart. 

CHAPTER X

JOHN ARMITAGE IS SHADOWED

Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. 

--Walt Whitman. 

Armitage dined alone that evening and left the hotel at nine o'clock fora walk. He unaffectedly enjoyed paved ground and the sights and ways ofcities, and he walked aimlessly about the lighted thoroughfares of thecapital with conscious pleasure in the movement and color of life. He lethis eyes follow the Washington Monument's gray line starward; and hestopped to enjoy the high-poised equestrian statue of Sherman, to whichthe starry dusk gave something of legendary and Old World charm. 

Coming out upon Pennsylvania Avenue he strolled past the White House, and, at the wide-flung gates, paused while a carriage swept by him at thedriveway. He saw within the grim face of Baron von Marhof andunconsciously lifted his hat, though the Ambassador was deep in thoughtand did not see him. Armitage struck the pavement smartly with his stickas he walked slowly on, pondering; but he was conscious a moment laterthat some one was loitering persistently in his wake. Armitage was atonce on the alert with all his faculties sharpened. He turned andgradually slackened his pace, and the person behind him immediately didlikewise. 

The sensation of being followed is at first annoying; then a pleasantzest creeps into it, and in Armitage's case the reaction was immediate. He was even amused to reflect that the shadow had chosen for his exploitwhat is probably the most conspicuous and the best-guarded spot inAmerica. It was not yet ten o'clock, but the streets were comparativelyfree of people. He slackened his pace gradually, and threw open hisovercoat, for the night was warm, to give an impression of ease, and whenhe had reached the somber facade of the Treasury Building he paused andstudied it in the glare of the electric lights, as though he were achance traveler taking a preliminary view of the sights of the capital. Aman still lingered behind him, drawing nearer now, at a moment when theyhad the sidewalk comparatively free to themselves. The fellow was short, but of soldierly erectness, and even in his loitering pace lifted hisfeet with the quick precision of the drilled man. Armitage walked to thecorner of Pennsylvania Avenue and Fifteenth Street, then turned andretraced his steps slowly past the Treasury Building. The man who hadbeen following faced about and walked slowly in the opposite direction, and Armitage, quickening his own pace, amused himself by dogging thefellow's steps closely for twenty yards, then passed him. 

When he had gained the advantage of a few feet, Armitage stopped suddenlyand spoke to the man in the casual tone he might have used in addressinga passing acquaintance. 

"My friend, " he said, "there are two policemen across the street; if youcontinue to follow me I shall call their attention to you. "

"Pardon me--"

"You are watching me; and the thing won't do. "

"Yes, I'm watching you; but--"

"But the thing won't do! If you are hired--"

"_Nein! Nein!_ You do me a wrong, sir. "

"Then if you are not hired you are your own master, and you serveyourself ill when you take the trouble to follow me. Now I'm going tofinish my walk, and I beg you to keep out of my way. This is not a placewhere liberties may be infringed with impunity. Good evening, sir. "

Armitage wheeled about sharply, and as his face came into the full lightof the street lamps the stranger stared at him intently. 

Armitage was fumbling in his pocket for a coin, but this impertinencecaused him to change his mind. Two policemen were walking slowly towardthem, and Armitage, annoyed by the whole incident, walked quickly away. 

He was not wholly at ease over the meeting. The fact that Chauvenet hadso promptly put a spy as well as the Servian assassin on his trailquickened his pulse with anger for an instant and then sobered him. 

He continued his walk, and paused presently before an array of booksin a shop window. Then some one stopped at his side and he looked up tofind the same man he had accosted at the Treasury Building lifting hishat, --an American soldier's campaign hat. The fellow was an extremeblond, with a smooth-shaven, weather-beaten face, blue eyes and lighthair. 

"Pardon me! You are mistaken; I am not a spy. But it is wonderful; it isquite wonderful--"

The man's face was alight with discovery, with an alert pleasure thatawaited recognition. 

"My dear fellow, you really become annoying, " and Armitage again thrusthis hand into his trousers pocket. "I should hate awfully to appeal tothe police; but you must not crowd me too far. "

The man seemed moved by deep feeling, and his eyes were bright withexcitement. His hands clasped tightly the railing that protected theglass window of the book shop. As Armitage turned away impatiently theman ejaculated huskily, as though some over-mastering influence wrung thewords from him:

"Don't you know me? I am Oscar--don't you remember me, and the greatforest, where I taught you to shoot and fish? You are--"

He bent toward Armitage with a fierce insistence, his eyes blazing in hiseagerness to be understood. 

John Armitage turned again to the window, leaned lightly upon the ironrailing and studied the title of a book attentively. He was silentlyabsorbed for a full minute, in which the man who had followed him waited. Taking his cue from Armitage's manner he appeared to be deeply interestedin the bookseller's display; but the excitement still glittered in hiseyes. 

Armitage was thinking swiftly, and his thoughts covered a very wide rangeof time and place as he stood there. Then he spoke very deliberately andcoolly, but with a certain peremptory sharpness. 

"Go ahead of me to the New American and wait in the office until I come. "

The man's hand went to his hat. 

"None of that!"

Armitage arrested him with a gesture. "My name is Armitage, --JohnArmitage, " he said. "I advise you to remember it. Now go!"

The man hurried away, and Armitage slowly followed. 

It occurred to him that the man might be of use, and with this in mind hereturned to the New American, got his key from the office, nodded to hisacquaintance of the street and led the way to the elevator. 

Armitage put aside his coat and hat, locked the hall door, and then, whenthe two stood face to face in his little sitting-room, he surveyed theman carefully. 

"What do you want?" he demanded bluntly. 

He took a cigarette from a box on the table, lighted it, and then, withan air of finality, fixed his gaze upon the man, who eyed him with a kindof stupefied wonder. Then there flashed into the fellow's bronzed facesomething of dignity and resentment. He stood perfectly erect with hisfelt hat clasped in his hand. His clothes were cheap, but clean, and hisshort coat was buttoned trimly about him. 

"I want nothing, Mr. Armitage, " he replied humbly, speaking slowly andwith a marked German accent. 

"Then you will be easily satisfied, " said Armitage. "You said your namewas--?"

"Oscar--Oscar Breunig. "

Armitage sat down and scrutinized the man again without relaxing hisseverity. 

"You think you have seen me somewhere, so you have followed me in thestreets to make sure. When did this idea first occur to you?"

"I saw you at Fort Myer at the drill last Friday. I have been looking foryou since, and saw you leave your horse at the hotel this afternoon. Youride at Rock Creek--yes?"

"What do you do for a living, Mr. Breunig?" asked Armitage. 

"I was in the army, but served out my time and was dischargeda few months ago and came to Washington to see where they make thegovernment--yes? I am going to South America. Is it Peru? Yes; there willbe a revolution. "

He paused, and Armitage met his eyes; they were very blue and kind, --eyesthat spoke of sincerity and fidelity, such eyes as a leader of forlornhopes would like to know were behind him when he gave the order tocharge. Then a curious thing happened. It may have been the contact ofeye with eye that awoke question and response between them; it may havebeen a need in one that touched a chord of helplessness in the other; butsuddenly Armitage leaped to his feet and grasped the outstretched handsof the little soldier. 

"Oscar!" he said; and repeated, very softly, "Oscar!"

The man was deeply moved and the tears sprang into his eyes. Armitagelaughed, holding him at arm's length. 

"None of that nonsense! Sit down!" He turned to the door, opened it, andpeered into the hall, locked the door again, then motioned the man to achair. 

"So you deserted your mother country, did you, and have borne arms forthe glorious republic?"

"I served in the Philippines, --yes?"

"Rank, titles, emoluments, Oscar?"

"I was a sergeant; and the surgeon could not find the bullet after BigBend, Luzon; so they were sorry and gave me a certificate and two dollarsa month to my pay, " said the man, so succinctly and colorlessly thatArmitage laughed. 

"Yon have done well, Oscar; honor me by accepting a cigar. "

The man took a cigar from the box which Armitage extended, but would notlight it. He held it rather absent-mindedly in his hand and continued tostare. 

"You are not dead, --Mr. --Armitage; but your father--?"

"My father is dead, Oscar. "

"He was a good man, " said the soldier. 

"Yes; he was a good man, " repeated Armitage gravely. "I am alive, and yetI am dead, Oscar; do you grasp the idea? You were a good friend when wewere lads together in the great forest. If I should want you to helpme now--"

The man jumped to his feet and stood at attention so gravely thatArmitage laughed and slapped his knee. 

"You are well taught, Sergeant Oscar! Sit down. I am going to trust you. My affairs just now are not without their trifling dangers. "

"There are enemies--yes?" and Oscar nodded his head solemnly inacceptance of the situation. 

"I am going to trust you absolutely. You have no confidants--you are notmarried?"

"How should a man be married who is a soldier? I have no friends; theyare unprofitable, " declared Oscar solemnly. 

"I fear you are a pessimist, Oscar; but a pessimist who keeps his mouthshut is a good ally. Now, if you are not afraid of being shot or struckwith a knife, and if you are willing to obey my orders for a few weeks wemay be able to do some business. First, remember that I am Mr. Armitage;you must learn that now, and remember it for all time. And if any oneshould ever suggest anything else--"

The man nodded his comprehension. 

"That will be the time for Oscar to be dumb. I understand, Mr. Armitage. "

Armitage smiled. The man presented so vigorous a picture of health, hissimple character was so transparently reflected in his eyes and face thathe did not in the least question him. 

"You are an intelligent person, Sergeant. If you are equallydiscreet--able to be deaf when troublesome questions are asked, then Ithink we shall get on. "

"You should remember--" began Oscar. 

"I remember nothing, " observed Armitage sharply; and Oscar was quitehumble again. Armitage opened a trunk and took out an envelope from whichhe drew several papers and a small map, which he unfolded and spread onthe table. He marked a spot with his lead-pencil and passed the map toOscar. 

"Do you think you could find that place?"

The man breathed hard over it for several minutes. 

"Yes; it would be easy, " and he nodded his head several times as he namedthe railroad stations nearest the point indicated by Armitage. The placewas in one of the mountainous counties of Virginia, fifteen miles from aneast and west railway line. Armitage opened a duly recorded deed whichconveyed to himself the title to two thousand acres of land; also acuriously complicated abstract of title showing the successive transfersof ownership from colonial days down through the years of Virginia'ssplendor to the dread time when battle shook the world. The title hadpassed from the receiver of a defunct shooting-club to Armitage, who hadbeen charmed by the description of the property as set forth in anadvertisement, and lured, moreover, by the amazingly small price at whichthe preserve was offered. 

"It is a farm--yes?"

"It is a wilderness, I fancy, " said Armitage. "I have never seen it;I may never see it, for that matter; but you will find your waythere--going first to this town, Lamar, studying the country, keepingyour mouth shut, and seeing what the improvements on the ground amountto. There's some sort of a bungalow there, built by the shooting-club. Here's a description of the place, on the strength of which I bought it. You may take these papers along to judge the size of the swindle. "

"Yes, sir. "

"And a couple of good horses; plenty of commissary stores--plain militarynecessities, you understand--and some bedding should be provided. I wantyou to take full charge of this matter and get to work as quickly aspossible. It may be a trifle lonesome down there among the hills, but ifyou serve me well you shall not regret it. "

"Yes, I am quite satisfied with the job, " said Oscar. 

"And after you have reached the place and settled yourself you will tellthe postmaster and telegraph operator who you are and where you may befound, so that messages may reach you promptly. If you get an unsignedmessage advising you of--let me consider--a shipment of steers, you mayexpect me any hour. On the other hand, you may not see me at all. We'llconsider that our agreement lasts until the first snow flies next winter. You are a soldier. There need be no further discussion of this matter, Oscar. "

The man nodded gravely. 

"And it is well for you not to reappear in this hotel. If you should bequestioned on leaving here--"

"I have not been, here--is it not?"

"It is, " replied Armitage, smiling. "You read and write English?"

"Yes; one must, to serve in the army. "

"If you should see a big Servian with a neck like a bull and a head thesize of a pea, who speaks very bad German, you will do well to keep outof his way, --unless you find a good place to tie him up. I advise you notto commit murder without special orders, --do you understand?"

"It is the custom of the country, " assented Oscar, in a tone of deepregret. 

"To be sure, " laughed Armitage; "and now I am going to give you moneyenough to carry out the project I have indicated. "

He took from his trunk a long bill-book, counted out twenty newone-hundred-dollar bills and threw them on the table. 

"It is much money, " observed Oscar, counting the bills laboriously. 

"It will be enough for your purposes. You can't spend much money up thereif you try. Bacon--perhaps eggs; a cow may be necessary, --who can tellwithout trying it? Don't write me any letters or telegrams, and forgetthat you have seen me if you don't hear from me again. "

He went to the elevator and rode down to the office with Oscar anddismissed him carelessly. Then John Armitage bought an armful ofmagazines and newspapers and returned to his room, quite like anytraveler taking the comforts of his inn. 

CHAPTER XI

THE TOSS OF A NAPKIN

As music and splendor Survive not the lamp and the lute, The heart's echoes render No song when the spirit is mute--No songs but sad dirges, Like the wind through a ruined cell, Or the mournful surges That ring the dead seaman's knell. --Shelley. 

Captain Richard Claiborne gave a supper at the Army and Navy Club for tenmen in honor of the newly-arrived military attaché of the Spanishlegation. He had drawn his guests largely from his foreign acquaintancesin Washington because the Spaniard spoke little English; and Dick knewWashington well enough to understand that while a girl and a man whospeak different languages may sit comfortably together at table, men inlike predicament grow morose and are likely to quarrel with their eyesbefore the cigars are passed. It was Friday, and the whole party hadwitnessed the drill at Fort Myer that afternoon, with nine girls tolisten to their explanation of the manoeuvers and the earliest springbride for chaperon. Shirley had been of the party, and somewhat theheroine of it, too, for it was Dick who sat on his horse out in thetanbark with the little whistle to his lips and manipulated the troop. 

"Here's a confusion of tongues; I may need you to interpret, " laughedDick, indicating a chair at his left; and when Armitage sat down he facedChauvenet across the round table. 

With the first filling of glasses it was found that every one could speakFrench, and the talk went forward spiritedly. The discussion of militarymatters naturally occupied first place, and all were anxious to steerclear of anything that might be offensive to the Spaniard, who had lost abrother at San Juan. Claiborne thought it wisest to discuss nations thatwere not represented at the table, and this made it very simple for allto unite in rejecting the impertinent claims of Japan to be reckonedamong world powers, and to declare, for the benefit of the Russianattaché, that Slav and Saxon must ultimately contend for the earth'sdominion. 

Then they fell to talking about individuals, chiefly men in the publiceye; and as the Austro-Hungarian embassy was in mourning andunrepresented at the table, the new Emperor-king was discussed withconsiderable frankness. 

"He has not old Stroebel's right hand to hold him up, " remarked a youngGerman officer. 

"Thereby hangs a dark tale, " remarked Claiborne. "Somebody stuck a knifeinto Count von Stroebel at a singularly inopportune moment. I saw him inGeneva two days before he was assassinated, and he was very feeble andseemed harassed. It gives a man the shudders to think of what mighthappen if his Majesty, Charles Louis, should go by the board. His onlychild died a year ago--after him his cousin Francis, and then thedeluge. "

"Bah! Francis is not as dark as he's painted. He's the most lied-aboutprince in Europe, " remarked Chauvenet. "He would most certainly be animprovement on Charles Louis. But alas! Charles Louis will undoubtedlylive on forever, like his lamented father. The King is dead: long livethe King!"

"Nothing can happen, " remarked the German sadly. "I have lost much moneybetting on upheavals in that direction. If there were a man in Hungary itwould be different; but riots are not revolutions. "

"That is quite true, " said Armitage quietly. 

"But, " observed the Spaniard, "if the Archduke Karl had not gone out ofhis head and died in two or three dozen places, so that no one is sure heis dead at all, things at Vienna might be rather more interesting. Karl took a son with him into exile. Suppose one or the other of themshould reappear, stir up strife and incite rebellion--?"

"Such speculations are quite idle, " commented Chauvenet. "There is nodoubt whatever that Karl is dead, or we should hear of him. "

"Of course, " said the German. "If he were not, the death of the oldEmperor would have brought him to life again. "

"The same applies to the boy he carried away with him--undoubtedlydead--or we should hear of him. Karl disappeared soon after his sonFrancis was born. It was said--"

"A pretty tale it is!" commented the German--"that the child wasn'texactly Karl's own. He took it quite hard--went away to hide his shame inexile, taking his son Frederick Augustus with him. "

"He was surely mad, " remarked Chauvenet, sipping a cordial. "He is muchbetter dead and out of the way for the good of Austria. Francis, as Isay, is a good fellow. We have hunted together, and I know him well. "

They fell to talking about the lost sons of royal houses--and a goodlynumber there have been, even in these later centuries--and then of thelatest marriages between American women and titled foreigners. Chauvenetwas now leading the conversation; it might even have seemed to a criticallistener that he was guiding it with a certain intention. 

He laughed as though at the remembrance of something amusing, and heldthe little company while he bent over a candle to light a cigar. 

"With all due respect to our American host, I must say that a title inAmerica goes further than anywhere else in the world. I was at Bar Harborthree years ago when the Baron von Kissel devastated that region. He madesad havoc among the ladies that summer; the rest of us simply had noplace to stand. You remember, gentlemen, "--and Chauvenet looked slowlyaround the listening circle, --"that the unexpected arrival of theexcellent Ambassador of Austria-Hungary caused the Baron to leave BarHarbor between dark and daylight. The story was that he got off in asail-boat; and the next we heard of him he was masquerading under sometitle in San Francisco, where he proved to be a dangerous forger. You allremember that the papers were full of his performances for a while, buthe was a lucky rascal, and always disappeared at the proper psychologicalmoment. He had, as you may say, the cosmopolitan accent, and was the mostplausible fellow alive. "

Chauvenet held his audience well in hand, for nearly every one rememberedthe brilliant exploits of the fraudulent baron, and all were interestedin what promised to be some new information about him. Armitage, listening intently to Chauvenet's recital, felt his blood quicken, andhis face flushed for a moment. His cigarette case lay upon the edge ofthe table, and he snapped it shut and fingered it nervously as helistened. 

"It's my experience, " continued Chauvenet, "that we never meet a persononce only--there's always a second meeting somewhere; and I was not atall surprised when I ran upon my old friend the baron in Germany lastfall. "

"At his old tricks, I suppose, " observed some one. 

"No; that was the strangest part of it. He's struck a deeper game--thoughI'm blessed if I can make it out--he's dropped the title altogether, andnow calls himself _Mister_--I've forgotten for the moment the rest of it, but it is an English name. He's made a stake somehow, and travels aboutin decent comfort. He passes now as an American--his English isexcellent--and he hints at large American interests. "

"He probably has forged securities to sell, " commented the German. "Iknow those fellows. The business is best done quietly. "

"I dare say, " returned Chauvenet. 

"Of course, you greeted him as a long-lost friend, " remarked Claiborneleadingly. 

"No; I wanted to make sure of him; and, strangely enough, he assisted mein a very curious way. "

All felt that they were now to hear the dénouement of the story, andseveral men bent forward in their absorption with their elbows on thetable. Chauvenet smiled and resumed, with a little shrug of hisshoulders. 

"Well, I must go back a moment to say that the man I knew at Bar Harborhad a real crest--the ladies to whom he wrote notes treasured them, Idare say, because of the pretty insignium. He had it engraved on hiscigarette case, a bird of some kind tiptoeing on a helmet, and beneaththere was a motto, _Fide non armis_. "

"The devil!" exclaimed the young German. "Why, that's very like--"

"Very like the device of the Austrian Schomburgs. Well, I remembered thecigarette case, and one night at a concert--in Berlin, you know--Ichanced to sit with some friends at a table quite near where he satalone; I had my eye on him, trying to assure myself of his identity, when, in closing his cigarette case, it fell almost at my feet, and Ibumped heads with a waiter as I picked it up--I wanted to make sure--andhanded it to him, the imitation baron. "

"That was your chance to startle him a trifle, I should say, " remarkedthe German. 

"He was the man, beyond doubt. There was no mistaking the cigarette ease. What I said was, "--continued Chauvenet, --"'Allow me, Baron!'"

"Well spoken!" exclaimed the Spanish officer. 

"Not so well, either, " laughed Chauvenet. "He had the best of it--he's aclever man, I am obliged to admit! He said--" and Chauvenet's mirthstifled him for a moment. 

"Yes; what was it?" demanded the German impatiently. 

"He said: 'Thank you, waiter!' and put the cigarette case back into hispocket!"

They all laughed. Then Captain Claiborne's eyes fell upon the table andrested idly on John Armitage's cigarette case--on the smoothly-worn goldof the surface, on the snowy falcon and the silver helmet on which thebird poised. He started slightly, then tossed his napkin carelessly onthe table so that it covered the gold trinket completely. 

"Gentlemen, " he said, "if we are going to show ourselves at theDarlington ball we'll have to run along. "

Below, in the coat room, Claiborne was fastening the frogs of hismilitary overcoat when Armitage, who had waited for the opportunity, spoke to him. 

"That story is a lie, Claiborne. That man never saw me or my cigarettecase in Berlin; and moreover, I was never at Bar Harbor in my life. Igave you some account of myself on the _King Edward_--every word of itis true. "

"You should face him--you must have it out with him!" exclaimedClaiborne, and Armitage saw the conflict and uncertainty in the officer'seyes. 

"But the time hasn't come for that--"

"Then if there is something between you, "--began Claiborne, the doubt nowclearly dominant. 

"There is undoubtedly a great deal between us, and there will be morebefore we reach the end. "

Dick Claiborne was a perfectly frank, outspoken fellow, and this hint ofmystery by a man whose character had just been boldly assailed angeredhim. 

"Good God, man! I know as much about Chauvenet as I do about you. Thisthing is ugly, as you must see. I don't like it, I tell you! You've gotto do more than deny a circumstantial story like that by a fellow whosestanding here is as good as yours! If you don't offer some betterexplanation of this by to-morrow night I shall have to ask you to cut myacquaintance--and the acquaintance of my family!"

Armitage's face was grave, but he smiled as he took his hat and stick. 

"I shall not be able to satisfy you of my respectability by to-morrownight, Captain Claiborne. My own affairs must wait on larger matters. "

"Then you need never take the trouble!"

"In my own time you shall be quite fully satisfied, " said Armitagequietly, and turned away. 

He was not among the others of the Claiborne party when they got intotheir carriages to go to the ball. He went, in fact, to the telegraphoffice and sent a message to Oscar Breunig, Lamar, Virginia, givingnotice of a shipment of steers. 

Then he returned to the New American and packed his belongings. 

CHAPTER XII

A CAMP IN THE MOUNTAINS

--Who climbed the blue Virginia hills Against embattled foes;And planted there, in valleys fair, The lily and the rose;Whose fragrance lives in many lands, Whose beauty stars the earth, And lights the hearths of happy homes With loveliness and worth. 

--Francis O. Ticknor. 

The study of maps and time-tables is a far more profitable business thanappears. John Armitage possessed a great store of geographical knowledgeas interpreted in such literature. He could tell you, without leaving hisroom, and probably without opening his trunk, the quickest way out ofTokio, or St. Petersburg, or Calcutta, or Cinch Tight, Montana, if yousuddenly received a cablegram calling you to Vienna or Paris orWashington from one of those places. 

Such being the case, it was remarkable that he should have started for apoint in the Virginia hills by way of Boston, thence to Norfolk bycoastwise steamer, and on to Lamar by lines of railroad whose scheduleswould have been the despair of unhardened travelers. He had expressed histrunks direct, and traveled with two suitcases and an umbrella. Hisjourney, since his boat swung out into Massachusetts Bay, had been spentin gloomy speculations, and two young women booked for Baltimore wronglyattributed his reticence and aloofness to a grievous disappointment inlove. 

He had wanted time to think--to ponder his affairs--to devise some wayout of his difficulties, and to contrive the defeat of Chauvenet. Moreover, his relations to the Claibornes were in an ugly tangle:Chauvenet had dealt him a telling blow in a quarter where he particularlywished to appear to advantage. 

He jumped out of the day coach in which he had accomplished the laststage of his journey to Lamar, just at dawn, and found Oscar with twohorses waiting. 

"Good morning, " said Oscar, saluting. 

"You are prompt, Sergeant, " and Armitage shook hands with him. 

As the train roared on through the valley, Armitage opened one of thesuit-cases and took out a pair of leather leggings, which he strapped on. Then Oscar tied the cases together with a rope and hung them across hissaddle-bow. 

"The place--what of it?" asked Armitage. 

"There may be worse--I have not decided. "

Armitage laughed aloud. 

"Is it as bad as that?"

The man was busy tightening the saddle girths, and he answered Armitage'sfurther questions with soldierlike brevity. 

"You have been here--"

"Two weeks, sir. "

"And nothing has happened? It is a good report. "

"It is good for the soul to stand on mountains and look at the world. Youwill like that animal--yes? He is lighter than a cavalry horse. Mine, youwill notice, is a trifle heavier. I bought them at a stock farm inanother valley, and rode them up to the place. "

The train sent back loud echoes. A girl in a pink sun-bonnet rode up on amule and carried off the mail pouch. The station agent was busy inside athis telegraph instruments and paid no heed to the horsemen. Save for afew huts clustered on the hillside, there were no signs of humanhabitation in sight. The lights in a switch target showed yellow againstthe growing dawn. 

"I am quite ready, sir, " reported Oscar, touching his hat. "There isnothing here but the station; the settlement is farther on our way. "

"Then let us be off, " said Armitage, swinging into the saddle. 

Oscar led the way in silence along a narrow road that clung close to thebase of a great pine-covered hill. The morning was sharp and the horsesstepped smartly, the breath of their nostrils showing white on the air. The far roar and whistle of the train came back more and more faintly, and when it had quite ceased Armitage sighed, pushed his soft felt hatfrom his face, and settled himself more firmly in his saddle. The keenair was as stimulating as wine, and he put his horse to the gallop androde ahead to shake up his blood. 

"It is good, " said the stolid cavalryman, as Armitage wheeled again intoline with him. 

"Yes, it is good, " repeated Armitage. 

A peace descended upon him that he had not known in many days. The lightgrew as the sun rose higher, blazing upon them like a brazen targetthrough deep clefts in the mountains. The morning mists retreated beforethem to farther ridges and peaks, and the beautiful gray-blue of theVirginia hills delighted Armitage's eyes. The region was very wild. Hereand there from some mountaineer's cabin a light penciling of smoke stoleupward. They once passed a boy driving a yoke of steers. After severalmiles the road, that had hung midway of the rough hill, dipped downsharply, and they came out into another and broader valley, where therewere tilled farms, and a little settlement, with a blacksmith shop and acountry store, post-office and inn combined. The storekeeper stood in thedoor, smoking a cob pipe. Seeing Oscar, he went inside and brought outsome letters and newspapers, which he delivered in silence. 

"This is Lamar post-office, " announced Oscar. 

"There must be some mail here for me, " said Armitage. 

Oscar handed him several long envelopes--they bore the name of the BronxLoan and Trust Company, whose office in New York was his permanentaddress, and he opened and read a number of letters and cablegrams thathad been forwarded. Their contents evidently gave him satisfaction, forhe whistled cheerfully as he thrust them into his pocket. 

"You keep in touch with the world, do you, Oscar? It is commendable. "

"I take a Washington paper--it relieves the monotony, and I can see wherethe regiments are moving, and whether my old captain is yet out of thehospital, and what happened to my lieutenant in his court-martial aboutthe pay accounts. One must observe the world--yes? At the post-officeback there"--he jerked his head to indicate--"it is against the law tosell whisky in a post-office, so that storekeeper with the red nose andsmall yellow eyes keeps it in a brown jug in the back room. "

"To be sure, " laughed Armitage. "I hope it is a good article. "

"It is vile, " replied Oscar. "His brother makes it up in the hills, andit is as strong as wood lye. "

"Moonshine! I have heard of it. We must have some for rainy days. "

It was a new world to John Armitage, and his heart was as light as themorning air as he followed Oscar along the ruddy mountain road. He was inVirginia, and somewhere on this soil, perhaps in some valley like the onethrough which he rode, Shirley Claiborne had gazed upon blue distances, with ridge rising against ridge, and dark pine-covered slopes like thesehe saw for the first time. He had left his affairs in Washington in asorry muddle; but he faced the new day with a buoyant spirit, and did nottrouble himself to look very far ahead. He had a definite business beforehim; his cablegrams were reassuring on that point. The fact that he was, in a sense, a fugitive did not trouble him in the least. He had nointention of allowing Jules Chauvenet's assassins to kill him, or ofbeing locked up in a Washington jail as the false Baron von Kissel. If headmitted that he was not John Armitage, it would be difficult to provethat he was anybody else--a fact touching human testimony which JulesChauvenet probably knew perfectly well. 

On the whole he was satisfied that he had followed the wisest course thusfar. The broad panorama of the morning hills communicated to his spirit agrowing elation. He began singing in German a ballad that recited thesorrows of a pale maiden prisoner in a dark tower on the Rhine, whenceher true knight rescued her, after many and fearsome adventures. On thelast stave he ceased abruptly, and an exclamation of wonder broke fromhim. 

They had been riding along a narrow trail that afforded, as Oscar said, ashort cut across a long timbered ridge that lay between them andArmitage's property. The path was rough and steep, and the low-hangingpine boughs and heavy underbrush increased the difficulties of ascent. Straining to the top, a new valley, hidden until now, was disclosed inlong and beautiful vistas. 

Armitage dropped the reins upon the neck of his panting horse. 

"It is a fine valley--yes?" asked Oscar. 

"It is a possession worthy of the noblest gods!" replied Armitage. "Thereis a white building with colonnades away over there--is it the house ofthe reigning deity?"

"It is not, sir, " answered Oscar, who spoke English with a kind of doggedprecision, giving equal value to all words. "It is a vast hotel wherethe rich spend much money. That place at the foot of the hills--do yousee?--it is there they play a foolish game with sticks and littleballs--"

"Golf? Is it possible!"

"There is no doubt of it, sir. I have seen the fools myself--men andwomen. The place is called Storm Valley. "

Armitage slapped his thigh sharply, so that his horse started. 

"Yes; you are probably right, Oscar, I have heard of the place. And thosehouses that lie beyond there in the valley belong to gentlemen of tasteand leisure who drink the waters and ride horses and play the foolishgame you describe with little white balls. "

"I could not tell it better, " responded Oscar, who had dismounted, like agood trooper, to rest his horse. 

"And our place--is it below there?" demanded Armitage. 

"It is not, sir. It lies to the west. But a man may come here when he islonesome, and look at the people and the gentlemen's houses. At night itis a pleasure to see the lights, and sometimes, when the wind is right, there is music of bands. "

"Poor Oscar!" laughed Armitage. 

His mood had not often in his life been so high. 

On his flight northward from Washington and southward down the Atlanticcapes, the thought that Shirley Claiborne and her family must now believehim an ignoble scoundrel had wrought misgivings and pain in his heart;but at least he would soon be near her--even now she might be somewherebelow in the lovely valley, and he drew off his hat and stared down uponwhat was glorified and enchanted ground. 

"Let us go, " he said presently. 

Oscar saluted, standing bridle in hand. 

"You will find it easier to walk, " he said, and, leading their horses, they retraced their steps for several hundred yards along the ridge, thenmounted and proceeded slowly down again until they came to a mountainroad. Presently a high wire fence followed at their right, where thedescent was sharply arrested, and they came to a barred wooden gate, andbeside it a small cabin, evidently designed for a lodge. 

"This is the place, sir, " and Oscar dismounted and threw open the gate. 

The road within followed the rough contour of the hillside, that stillturned downward until it broadened into a wooded plateau. The flutter ofwings in the underbrush, the scamper of squirrels, the mad lope of afox, kept the eye busy. A deer broke out of a hazel thicket, stared atthe horsemen in wide-eyed amazement, then plunged into the wood anddisappeared. 

"There are deer, and of foxes a great plenty, " remarked Oscar. 

He turned toward Armitage and added with lowered voice:

"It is different from our old hills and forests--yes? but sometimes Ihave been homesick. "

"But this is not so bad, Oscar; and some day you shall go back!"

"Here, " said the soldier, as they swung out of the wood and into theopen, "is what they call the Port of Missing Men. "

There was a broad park-like area that tended downward almostimperceptibly to a deep defile. They dismounted and walked to the edgeand looked down the steep sides. A little creek flowed out of the woodand emptied itself with a silvery rush into the vale, caught its breathbelow, and became a creek again. A slight suspension bridge flung acrossthe defile had once afforded a short cut to Storm Springs, but it was nowin disrepair, and at either end was posted "No Thoroughfare. " Armitagestepped upon the loose planking and felt the frail thing vibrate underhis weight. 

"It is a bad place, " remarked Oscar, as the bridge creaked and swung, andArmitage laughed and jumped back to solid ground. 

The surface of this harbor of the hills was rough with outcropping rock. In some great stress of nature the trees had been destroyed utterly, andonly a scant growth of weeds and wild flowers remained. The placesuggested a battle-ground for the winds, where they might meet andstruggle in wild combat; or more practically, it was large enough for theevolutions of a squadron of cavalry. 

"Why the name?" asked Armitage. 

"There were gray soldiers of many battles--yes?--who fought the longfight against the blue soldiers in the Valley of Virginia; and after thewar was over some of them would not surrender--no; but they marched here, and stayed a long time, and kept their last flag, and so the place wascalled the Port of Missing Men. They built that stone wall over therebeyond the patch of cedars, and camped. And a few died, and their gravesare there by the cedars. Yes; they had brave hearts, " and Oscar liftedhis hat as though he were saluting the lost legion. 

They turned again to the road and went forward at a gallop, until, half amile from the gate, they came upon a clearing and a low, red-roofedbungalow. 

"Your house, sir, " and Oscar swung himself down at the steps of a broadveranda. He led the horses away to a barn beyond the house, whileArmitage surveyed the landscape. The bungalow stood on a rough knoll, andwas so placed as to afford a splendid view of a wide region. Armitagetraversed the long veranda, studying the landscape, and delighting in thefar-stretching pine-covered barricade of hills. He was aroused by Oscar, who appeared carrying the suit-cases. 

"There shall be breakfast, " said the man. 

He threw open the doors and they entered a wide, bare hall, with afireplace, into which Oscar dropped a match. 

"All one floor--plenty of sleeping-rooms, sir--a place to eat here--akitchen beyond--a fair barracks for a common soldier; that is all. "

"It is enough. Throw these bags into the nearest bedroom, if there is nochoice, and camp will be established. "

"This is yours--the baggage that came by express is there. A wagongoes with the place, and I brought the things up yesterday. There is ashower-bath beyond the rear veranda. The mountain water is off the ice, but--you will require hot water for shaving--is it not so?"

"You oppress me with luxuries, Oscar. Wind up the clock, and nothing willbe wanting. "

Oscar unstrapped the trunks and then stood at attention in the door. Hehad expected Armitage to condemn the place in bitter language, but theproprietor of the abandoned hunting preserve was in excellent spirits, and whistled blithely as he drew out his keys. 

"The place was built by fools, " declared Oscar gloomily. 

"Undoubtedly! There is a saying that fools build houses and wise men livein them--you see where that leaves us, Oscar. Let us be cheerful!"

He tried the shower and changed his raiment, while Oscar prepared coffeeand laid a cloth on the long table before the fire. When Armitageappeared, coffee steamed in the tin pot in which it had been made. Bacon, eggs and toast were further offered. 

"You have done excellently well, Oscar. Go get your own breakfast. "Armitage dropped a lump of sugar into his coffee cup and surveyed theroom. 

A large map of Virginia and a series of hunting prints hung on theuntinted walls, and there were racks for guns, and a work-bench at oneend of the room, where guns might be taken apart and cleaned. A fewnovels, several three-year-old magazines and a variety of pipes remainedon the shelf above the fireplace. The house offered possibilities ofmeager comfort, and that was about all. Armitage remembered what theagent through whom he had made the purchase had said--that the place hadproved too isolated for even a hunting preserve, and that its only valuewas in the timber. He was satisfied with his bargain, and would not setup a lumber mill yet a while. He lighted a cigar and settled himself inan easy chair before the fire, glad of the luxury of peace and quietafter his circuitous journey and the tumult of doubt and question thathad shaken him. 

He slit the wrapper of the Washington newspaper that Oscar had broughtfrom the mountain post-office and scanned the head-lines. He read withcare a dispatch from London that purported to reflect the sentiment ofthe continental capitals toward Charles Louis, the new Emperor-king ofAustria-Hungary, and the paper dropped upon his knees and he stared intothe fire. Then he picked up a paper of earlier date and read all theforeign despatches and the news of Washington. He was about to toss thepaper aside, when his eyes fell upon a boldly-headlined article thatcaused his heart to throb fiercely. It recited the sudden reappearance ofthe fraudulent Baron von Kissel in Washington, and described in detailthe baron's escapades at Bar Harbor and his later career in Californiaand elsewhere. Then followed a story, veiled in careful phrases, butbased, so the article recited, upon information furnished by a gentlemanof extensive acquaintance on both sides of the Atlantic, that Baron vonKissel, under a new pseudonym, and with even more daring effrontery, hadwithin a fortnight sought to intrench himself in the most exclusivecircles of Washington. 

Armitage's cigar slipped from his fingers and fell upon the brick hearthas he read:

"The boldness of this clever adventurer is said to have reached a climaxin this city within a few days. He had, under the name of Armitage, palmed himself off upon members of one of the most distinguished familiesof the capital, whom he had met abroad during the winter. A younggentleman of this family, who, it will suffice to say, bears a commissionand title from the American government, entertained a small company offriends at a Washington club only a few nights ago, and this plausibleadventurer was among the guests. He was recognized at once by one of theforeigners present, who, out of consideration for the host and fellowguests, held his tongue; but it is understood that this gentleman soughtArmitage privately and warned him to leave Washington, which accounts forthe fact that the sumptuous apartments at the New American in which Mr. John Armitage, alias Baron von Kissel, had established himself werevacated immediately. None of those present at the supper will talk of thematter, but it has been the subject of lively gossip for several days, and the German embassy is said to have laid before the Washington policeall the information in its archives relating to the American adventuresof this impudent scoundrel. "

 * * * * *

Armitage rose, dropped the paper into the fire, and, with his elbowresting on the mantel-shelf, watched it burn. He laughed suddenly andfaced about, his back to the flames. Oscar stood at attention in themiddle of the room. 

"Shall we unpack--yes?"

"It is a capital idea, " said John Armitage. 

"I was striker for my captain also, who had fourteen pairs of boots and abad disposition--and his uniforms--yes? He was very pretty to look at ona horse. "

"The ideal is high, Oscar, but I shall do my best. That one first, please. "

The contents of the two trunks were disposed of deftly by Oscar asArmitage directed. One of the bedrooms was utilized as a closet, andgarments for every imaginable occasion were brought forth. There werestout English tweeds for the heaviest weather, two dress suits, andNorfolk jackets in corduroy. The owner's taste ran to grays and browns, it seemed, and he whimsically ordered his raiment grouped by colors as helounged about with a pipe in his mouth. 

"You may hang those scarfs on the string provided by my predecessor, Sergeant. They will help our color scheme. That pale blue doesn't blendwell in our rainbow--put it in your pocket and wear it, with mycompliments; and those tan shoes are not bad for the Virginia mud--dropthem here. Those gray campaign hats are comfortable--give the oldest tome. And there is a riding-cloak I had forgotten I ever owned--I gave goldfor it to a Madrid tailor. The mountain nights are cool, and the thingmay serve me well, " he added whimsically. 

He clapped on the hat and flung the cloak upon his shoulders. It fell tohis heels, and he gathered it together with one hand at the waist andstrutted out into the hall, whither Oscar followed, staring, as Armitagebegan to declaim:

"'Give me my robe; put on my crown; I haveImmortal longings in me!'

"'Tis an inky cloak, as dark as Hamlet's mind; I will go forth upon abloody business, and who hinders me shall know the bitter taste of death. Oscar, by the faith of my body, you shall be the Horatio of the tragedy. Set me right afore the world if treason be my undoing, and while we awaitthe trumpets, cast that silly pair of trousers as rubbish to the void, and choose of mine own raiment as thou wouldst, knave! And now--

"'Nothing can we call our own but death, And that small model of the barren earthWhich serves as paste and cover to our bones. For God's sake, let us sit upon the groundAnd tell sad stories of the death of kings. '"

Then he grew serious, tossed the cloak and hat upon a bench that ranround the room, and refilled and lighted his pipe. Oscar, soberlyunpacking, saw Armitage pace the hall floor for an hour, deep in thought. 

"Oscar, " he called abruptly, "how far is it down to Storm Springs?"

"A forced march, and you are there in an hour and a half, sir. "

CHAPTER XIII

THE LADY OF THE PERGOLA

April, April, Laugh, thy girlish laughter;Then, the moment after, Weep thy girlish, tears!April, that mine earsLike a lover greetest, If I tell thee, sweetest, All my hopes and fears, April, April, Laugh thy golden laughter, But, the moment after, Weep thy golden tears!

--William Watson. 

A few photographs of foreign scenes tacked on the walls; a Roman blankethung as a tapestry over the mantel; a portfolio and traveler's writingmaterials distributed about a table produced for the purpose, andadditions to the meager book-shelf--a line of Baedekers, a pocket atlas, a comprehensive American railway guide, several volumes of German andFrench poetry--and the place was not so bad. Armitage slept for an hourafter a simple luncheon had been prepared by Oscar, studied his lettersand cablegrams--made, in fact, some notes in regard to them--and wrotereplies. Then, at four o'clock, he told Oscar to saddle the horses. 

"It is spring, and in April a man's blood will not be quiet. We shall goforth and taste the air. "

He had studied the map of Lamar County with care, and led the way out ofhis own preserve by the road over which they had entered in the morning. Oscar and his horses were a credit to the training of the American army, and would have passed inspection anywhere. Armitage watched his adjutantwith approval. The man served without question, and, quicker of wit thanof speech, his buff-gauntleted hand went to his hat-brim wheneverArmitage addressed him. 

They sought again the spot whence Armitage had first looked down uponStorm Valley, and he opened his pocket map, the better to clarify hisideas of the region. 

"We shall go down into the valley, Oscar, " he said; and thereafter it washe that led. 

They struck presently into an old road that had been an early highwayacross the mountains. Above and below the forest hung gloomily, andpassing clouds darkened the slopes and occasionally spilled rain. Armitage drew on his cloak and Oscar enveloped himself in a slicker asthey rode through a sharp shower. At a lower level they came into fairweather again, and, crossing a bridge, rode down into Storm Valley. Theroad at once bore marks of care; and they passed a number of traps thatspoke unmistakably of cities, and riders whose mounts knew well thebridle-paths of Central Park. The hotel loomed massively before them, andbeyond were handsome estates and ambitious mansions scattered through thevalley and on the lower slopes. 

Armitage paused in a clump of trees and dismounted. 

"You will stay here until I come back. And remember that we don't knowany one; and at our time of life, Oscar, one should be wary of making newacquaintances. "

He tossed his cloak over the saddle and walked toward the inn. The sizeof the place and the great number of people going and coming surprisedhim, but in the numbers he saw his own security, and he walked boldly upthe steps of the main hotel entrance. He stepped into the long corridorof the inn, where many people lounged about, and heard with keensatisfaction and relief the click of a telegraph instrument that seemedat once to bring him into contact with the remote world. He filed histelegrams and walked the length of the broad hall, his riding-crop underhis arm. The gay banter and laughter of a group of young men and womenjust returned from a drive gave him a touch of heartache, for there was agirl somewhere in the valley whom he had followed across the sea, andthese people were of her own world--they undoubtedly knew her; verylikely she came often to this huge caravansary and mingled with them. 

At the entrance he passed Baron von Marhof, who, by reason of the deathof his royal chief, had taken a cottage at the Springs to emphasize hisabstention from the life of the capital. The Ambassador lifted his eyesand bowed to Armitage, as he bowed to a great many young men whose nameshe never remembered; but, oddly enough, the Baron paused, stared afterArmitage for a moment, then shook his head and walked on with knit brows. Armitage had lifted his hat and passed out, tapping his leg with hiscrop. 

He walked toward the private houses that lay scattered over the valleyand along the gradual slope of the hills as though carelessly flung froma dice box. Many of the places were handsome estates, with imposinghouses set amid beautiful gardens. Half a mile from the hotel he stoppeda passing negro to ask who owned a large house that stood well back fromthe road. The man answered; he seemed anxious to impart furtherinformation, and Armitage availed himself of the opportunity. 

"How near is Judge Claiborne's place?" he asked. 

The man pointed. It was the next house, on the right-hand side; andArmitage smiled to himself and strolled on. 

He looked down in a moment upon a pretty estate, distinguished by itsformal garden, but with the broad acres of a practical farm stretchingfar out into the valley. The lawn terraces were green, broken only byplots of spring flowers; the walks were walled in box and privet; thehouse, of the pillared colonial type, crowned a series of terraces. Along pergola, with pillars topped by red urns, curved gradually throughthe garden toward the mansion. Armitage followed a side road along thebrick partition wall and contemplated the inner landscape. The sharp snapof a gardener's shears far up the slope was the only sound that reachedhim. It was a charming place, and he yielded to a temptation to exploreit. He dropped over the wall and strolled away through the garden, thesmell of warm earth, moist from the day's light showers, and the faintodor of green things growing, sweet in his nostrils. He walked to the farend of the pergola, sat down on a wooden bench, and gave himself up toreverie. He had been denounced as an impostor; he was on Claiborne soil;and the situation required thought. 

It was while he thus pondered his affairs that Shirley, walking over thesoft lawn from a neighboring estate, came suddenly upon him. 

Her head went up with surprise and--he was sure--with disdain. Shestopped abruptly as he jumped to his feet. 

"I am caught--_in flagrante delicto_! I can only plead guilty and prayfor mercy. "

"They said--they said you had gone to Mexico?" said Shirleyquestioningly. 

"Plague take the newspapers! How dare they so misrepresent me!" helaughed. 

"Yes, I read those newspaper articles with a good deal of interest. Andmy brother--"

"Yes, your brother--he is the best fellow in the world!"

She mused, but a smile of real mirth now played over her face and lightedher eyes. 

"Those are generous words, Mr. Armitage. My brother warned me against youin quite unequivocal language. He told me about your match-box--"

"Oh, the cigarette case!" and he held it up. "It's really mine--and I'mgoing to keep it. It was very damaging evidence. It would argue stronglyagainst me in any court of law. "

"Yes, I believe that is true. " And she looked at the trinket with frankinterest. 

"But I particularly do not wish to have to meet that charge in any courtof law, Miss Claiborne. "

She met his gaze very steadily, and her eyes were grave. Then she asked, in much the same tone that she would have used if they had been very oldfriends and he had excused himself for not riding that day, or for notgoing upon a hunt, or to the theater:

"Why?"

"Because I have a pledge to keep and a work to do, and if I wereforced to defend myself from the charge of being the false Baron vonKissel, everything would be spoiled. You see, unfortunately--mostunfortunately--I am not quite without responsibilities, and I havecome down into the mountains, where I hope not to be shot and tossed overa precipice until I have had time to watch certain people and certainevents a little while. I tried to say as much to Captain Claiborne, but Isaw that my story did not impress him. And now I have said the same thingto you--"

He waited, gravely watching her, hat in hand. 

"And I have stood here and listened to you, and done exactly what CaptainClaiborne would not wish me to do under any circumstances, " said Shirley. 

"You are infinitely kind and generous--"

"No. I do not wish you to think me either of those things--of coursenot!"

Her conclusion was abrupt and pointed. 

"Then--"

"Then I will tell you--what I have not told any one else--that I knowvery well that you are not the person who appeared at Bar Harbor threeyears ago and palmed himself off as the Baron von Kissel. "

"You know it--you are quite sure of it?" he asked blankly. 

"Certainly. I saw that person--at Bar Harbor. I had gone up from Newportfor a week--I was even at a tea where he was quite the lion, and I amsure you are not the same person. "

Her direct manner of speech, her decisive tone, in which she placed thematter of his identity on a purely practical and unsentimental plane, gave him a new impression of her character. 

"But Captain Claiborne--"

He ceased suddenly and she anticipated the question at which he hadfaltered, and answered, a little icily:

"I do not consider it any of my business to meddle in your affairs withmy brother. He undoubtedly believes you are the impostor who palmedhimself off at Bar Harbor as the Baron von Kissel. He was told so--"

"By Monsieur Chauvenet. "

"So he said. "

"And of course he is a capital witness. There is no doubt of Chauvenet'sentire credibility, " declared Armitage, a little airily. 

"I should say not, " said Shirley unresponsively. "I am quite as sure thathe was not the false baron as I am that you were not. "

Armitage laughed. 

"That is a little pointed. "

"It was meant to be, " said Shirley sternly. "It is"--she weighed theword--"ridiculous that both of you should be here. "

"Thank you, for my half! I didn't know he was here! But I am not exactly_here_--I have a much, safer place, "--he swept the blue-hilled horizonwith his hand. "Monsieur Chauvenet and I will not shoot at each other inthe hotel dining-room. But I am really relieved that he has come. We havean interesting fashion of running into each other; it would positivelygrieve me to be obliged to wait long for him. "

He smiled and thrust his hat under his arm. The sun was dropping behindthe great western barricade, and a chill wind crept sharply over thevalley. 

He started to walk beside her as she turned away, but she pausedabruptly. 

"Oh, this won't do at all! I can't be seen with you, even in the shadowof my own house. I must trouble you to take the side gate, "--and sheindicated it by a nod of her head. 

"Not if I know myself! I am not a fraudulent member of the Germannobility--you have told me so yourself. Your conscience is clear--Iassure you mine is equally so! And I am not a person, Miss Claiborne, tosneak out by side gates--particularly when I came over the fence! It's along way around anyhow--and I have a horse over there somewhere by theinn. "

"My brother--"

"Is at Fort Myer, of course. At about this hour they are having dressparade, and he is thoroughly occupied. "

"But--there is Monsieur Chauvenet. He has nothing to do but amusehimself. "

They had reached the veranda steps, and she ran to the top and turned fora moment to look at him. He still carried his hat and crop in one hand, and had dropped the other into the side pocket of his coat. He was whollyat ease, and the wind ruffled his hair and gave him a boyish look thatShirley liked. But she had no wish to be found with him, and sheinstantly nodded his dismissal and half turned away to go into the house, when he detained her for a moment. 

"I am perfectly willing to afford Monsieur Chauvenet all imaginableentertainment. We are bound to have many meetings. I am afraid he reachedthis charming valley before me; but--as a rule--I prefer to be a littleahead of him; it's a whim--the merest whim, I assure you. "

He laughed, thinking little of what he said, but delighting in thepicture she made, the tall pillars of the veranda framing her against thewhite wall of the house, and the architrave high above speaking, so hethought, for the amplitude, the breadth of her nature. Her green clothgown afforded the happiest possible contrast with the white background;and her hat--(for a gown, let us remember, may express the dressmaker, but a hat expresses the woman who wears it)--her hat, Armitage was aware, was a trifle of black velvet caught up at one side with snowy plumes wellcalculated to shock the sensibilities of the Audubon Society. Yet thebird, if he knew, doubtless rejoiced in his fate! Shirley's hand, thricelaid down, and there you have the length of that velvet cap, plume andall. Her profile, as she half turned away, must awaken regret thatReynolds and Gainsborough paint no more; yet let us be practical:Sargent, in this particular, could not serve us ill. 

Her annoyance at finding herself lingering to listen to him was marked inan almost imperceptible gathering of her brows. It was all the matter ofan instant. His heart beat fast in his joy at the sight of her, and thetongue that years of practice had skilled in reserve and evasion waspossessed by a reckless spirit. 

She nodded carelessly, but said nothing, waiting for him to go on. 

"But when I wait for people they always come--even in a strange pergola!"he added daringly. "Now, in Geneva, not long ago--"

He lost the profile and gained her face as he liked it best, though herhead was lifted a little high in resentment against her own yieldingcuriosity. He was speaking rapidly, and the slight hint of some othertongue than his usually fluent English arrested her ear now, as it had atother times. 

"In Geneva, when I told a young lady that I was waiting for a very wickedman to appear--it was really the oddest thing in the world that almostimmediately Monsieur Jules Chauvenet arrived at mine own inn! It isinevitable; it is always sure to be my fate, " he concluded mournfully. 

He bowed low, restored the shabby hat to his head with the least bit of aflourish and strolled away through the garden by a broad walk that led tothe front gate. 

He would have been interested to know that when he was out of sightShirley walked to the veranda rail and bent forward, listening to hissteps on the gravel, after the hedge and shrubbery had hidden him. Andshe stood thus until the faint click of the gate told her that he hadgone. 

She did not know that as the gate closed upon him he met Chauvenet faceto face. 

CHAPTER XIV

AN ENFORCED INTERVIEW

_En, garde, Messieurs_! And if my hand is hard, Remember I've been buffeting at will; I am a whit impatient, and 'tis illTo cross a hungry dog. _Messieurs, en garde_. 

--W. Lindsey. 

"Monsieur Chauvenet!"

Armitage uncovered smilingly. Chauvenet stared mutely as Armitage pausedwith his back to the Claiborne gate. Chauvenet was dressed with his usualcare, and wore the latest carnation in the lapel of his top-coat. Hestruck the ground with his stick, his look of astonishment passed, and hesmiled pleasantly as he returned Armitage's salutation. 

"My dear Armitage!" he murmured. 

"I didn't go to Mexico after all, my good Chauvenet. The place is full offevers; I couldn't take the risk. "

"He is indeed a wise man who safeguards his health, " replied the other. 

"You are quite right. And when one has had many narrow escapes, one maybe excused for exercising rather particular care. Do you not find it so?"mocked Armitage. 

"My dear fellow, my life is one long fight against ennui. Danger, excitement, the hazard of my precious life--such pleasures of late havebeen denied me. "

"But you are young and of intrepid spirit, Monsieur. It would be quitesurprising if some perilous adventure did not overtake you before thesilver gets in your hair. "

"Ah! I assure you the speculation interests me; but I must trouble you tolet me pass, " continued Chauvenet, in the same tone. "I shall quiteforget that I set out to make a call if I linger longer in your charmingsociety. "

"But I must ask you to delay your call for the present. I shall greatlyvalue your company down the road a little way. It is a trifling favor, and you are a man of delightful courtesy. "

Chauvenet twisted his mustache reflectively. His mind had been busyseeking means of turning the meeting to his own advantage. He had metArmitage at quite the least imaginable spot in the world for an encounterbetween them; and he was not a man who enjoyed surprises. He had takencare that the exposure of Armitage at Washington should be telegraphed toevery part of the country, and put upon the cables. He had expectedArmitage to leave Washington, but he had no idea that he would turn up ata fashionable resort greatly affected by Washingtonians and only acomparatively short distance from the capital. He was at a greatdisadvantage in not knowing Armitage's plans and strategy; his own mindwas curiously cunning, and his reasoning powers traversed oblique lines. He was thus prone to impute similar mental processes to other people;simplicity and directness he did not understand at all. He had underratedArmitage's courage and daring; he wished to make no further mistakes, andhe walked back toward the hotel with apparent good grace. Armitage spokenow in a very different key, and the change displeased Chauvenet, for hemuch affected ironical raillery, and his companion's sterner tonesdisconcerted him. 

"I take this opportunity to give you a solemn warning, Monsieur JulesChauvenet, alias Rambaud, and thereby render you a greater service thanyou know. You have undertaken a deep and dangerous game--it isspectacular--it is picturesque--it is immense! It is so stupendous thatthe taking of a few lives seems trifling in comparison with the end to beattained. Now look about you for a moment, Monsieur Jules Chauvenet! Inthis mountain air a man may grow very sane and see matters very clearly. London, Paris, Berlin, Vienna--they are a long way off, and the thingsthey stand for lose their splendor when a man sits among these Americanmountains and reflects upon the pettiness and sordidness of man's commonambitions. "

"Is this exordium or peroration, my dear fellow?"

"It is both, " replied Armitage succinctly, and Chauvenet was sorry he hadspoken, for Armitage stopped short in a lonely stretch of the highway andcontinued in a disagreeable, incisive tone:

"I ran away from Washington after you told that story at Claiborne'ssupper-table, not because I was afraid of your accusation, but because Iwanted to watch your plans a little in security. The only man who couldhave helped me immediately was Senator Sanderson, and I knew that he wasin Montana. "

Chauvenet smiled with a return of assurance. 

"Of course. The hour was chosen well!"

"More wisely, in fact, than your choice of that big assassin of yours. He's a clumsy fellow, with more brawn than brains. I had no trouble inshaking him off in Boston, where you probably advised him I should betaking the Montreal express. "

Chauvenet blinked. This was precisely what he had told Zmai to expect. Heshifted from one foot to another, and wondered just how he was to escapefrom Armitage. He had gone to Storm Springs to be near Shirley Claiborne, and he deeply resented having business thrust upon him. 

"He is a wise man who wields the knife himself, Monsieur Chauvenet. Inthe taking of poor Count von Stroebel's life so deftly and secretly, youprove my philosophy. It was a clever job, Monsieur!"

Chauvenet's gloved fingers caught at his mustache. 

"That is almost insulting, Monsieur Armitage. A distinguished statesmanis killed--therefore I must have murdered him. You forget that there's adifference between us--you are an unknown adventurer, carried on thebooks of the police as a fugitive from justice, and I can walk to thehotel and get twenty reputable men to vouch for me. I advise you to becareful not to mention my name in connection with Count von Stroebel'sdeath. "

He had begun jauntily, but closed in heat, and when he finished Armitagenodded to signify that he understood perfectly. 

"A few more deaths and you would be in a position to command tribute froma high quarter, Monsieur. "

"Your mind seems to turn upon assassination. If you know so much aboutStroebel's death, it's unfortunate that you left Europe at a time whenyou might have rendered important aid in finding the murderer. It's a bitsuspicious, Monsieur Armitage! It is known at the Hotel Monte Rosa inGeneva that you were the last person to enjoy an interview with thevenerable statesman--you see I am not dull, Monsieur Armitage!"

"You are not dull, Chauvenet; you are only shortsighted. The samewitnesses know that John Armitage was at the Hotel Monte Rosa fortwenty-four hours following the Count's departure. Meanwhile, wherewere you, Jules Chauvenet?"

Chauvenet's hand again went to his face, which whitened, though he soughtrefuge again in flippant irony. 

"To be sure! Where was I, Monsieur? Undoubtedly you know all mymovements, so that it is unnecessary for me to have any opinions in thematter. "

"Quite so! Your opinions are not of great value to me, for I employedagents to trace every move you made during the month in which Count vonStroebel was stabbed to death in his railway carriage. It is sointeresting that I have committed the record to memory. If the storywould interest you--"

The hand that again sought the slight mustache trembled slightly; butChauvenet smiled. 

"You should write the memoirs of your very interesting career, my dearfellow. I can not listen to your babble longer. "

"I do not intend that you shall; but your whereabouts on Monday night, March eighteenth, of this year, may need explanation, MonsieurChauvenet. "

"If it should, I shall call upon you, my dear fellow!"

"Save yourself the trouble! The bureau I employed to investigate thematter could assist you much better. All I could offer would be copies ofits very thorough reports. The number of cups of coffee your friendDurand drank for breakfast this morning at his lodgings in Vienna willreach me in due course!"

"You are really a devil of a fellow, John Armitage! So much knowledge! Soacute an intellect! You are too wise to throw away your life futilely. "

"You have been most generous in sparing it thus far!" laughed Armitage, and Chauvenet took instant advantage of his change of humor. 

"Perhaps--perhaps--I have pledged my faith in the wrong quarter, Monsieur. If I may say it, we are both fairly clever men; together wecould achieve much!"

"So you would sell out, would you?" laughed Armitage. "You miserablelittle blackguard, I should like to join forces with you! Your knack ofgetting the poison into the right cup every time would be a valuableasset! But we are not made for each other in this world. In the next--whoknows?"

"As you will! I dare say you would be an exacting partner. "

"All of that, Chauvenet! You do best to stick to your present employer. He needs you and the like of you--I don't! But remember--if there's asudden death in Vienna, in a certain high quarter, you will not liveto reap the benefits. Charles Louis rules Austria-Hungary; his cousin, your friend Francis, is not of kingly proportions. I advise you to cablethe amiable Durand of a dissolution of partnership. It is now too latefor you to call at Judge Claiborne's, and I shall trouble you to walk ondown the road for ten minutes. If you look round or follow me, I shallcertainly turn you into something less attractive than a pillar of salt. You do well to consult your watch--forward!"

Armitage pointed down the road with his riding-crop. As Chauvenet walkedslowly away, swinging his stick, Armitage turned toward the hotel. Theshadow of night was enfolding the hills, and it was quite dark when hefound Oscar and the horses. 

He mounted, and they rode through the deepening April dusk, up thewinding trail that led out of Storm Valley. 

CHAPTER XV

SHIRLEY LEARNS A SECRET

Nightingales warble about it All night under blossom and star;The wild swan is dying without it, And the eagle crieth afar;The sun, he doth mount but to find it Searching the green earth o'er;But more doth a man's heart mind it-- O more, more, more!

--G. E. Woodberry. 

Shirley Claiborne was dressed for a ride, and while waiting for her horseshe re-read her brother's letter; and the postscript, which follows, sheread twice:

"I shall never live down my acquaintance with the delectable Armitage. Mybrother officers insist on rubbing it in. I even hear, _ma chérie_, thatyou have gone into retreat by reason of the exposure. I'll admit, foryour consolation, that he really took me in; and, further, I reallywonder who the devil he is, --or _was_! Our last interview at the Club, after Chauvenet told his story, lingers with me disagreeably. I wasnaturally pretty hot to find him playing the darkly mysterious, whichnever did go with me, --after eating my bird and drinking my bottle. As aprecaution I have looked up Chauvenet to the best of my ability. At theAustro-Hungarian Embassy they speak well of him. He's over here tocollect the price of a few cruisers or some such rubbish from one of oursister republics below the Gulf. But bad luck to all foreigners! Me forAmerica every time!"

 * * * * *

"Dear old Dick!" and she dropped the letter into a drawer and went outinto the sunshine, mounted her horse and turned toward the hills. 

She had spent the intermediate seasons of the year at Storm Springs eversince she could remember, and had climbed the surrounding hills anddipped into the valleys with a boy's zest and freedom. The Virginiamountains were linked in her mind to the dreams of her youth, to herearliest hopes and aspirations, and to the books she had read, and shegalloped happily out of the valley to the tune of an old ballad. She rodeas a woman should, astride her horse and not madly clinging to it in thepreposterous ancient fashion. She had known horses from early years, inwhich she had tumbled from her pony's back in the stable-yard, and sheknew how to train a horse to a gait and how to master a beast's fear; andeven some of the tricks of the troopers in the Fort Myer drill she hadsurreptitiously practised in the meadow back of the Claiborne stable. 

It was on Tuesday that John Armitage had appeared before her in thepergola. It was now Thursday afternoon, and Chauvenet had been to see hertwice since, and she had met him the night before at a dance at one ofthe cottages. 

Judge Claiborne was distinguished for his acute and sinewy mind; but hehad, too, a strong feeling for art in all its expressions, and it was hisgift of imagination, --the ability to forecast the enemy's strategy andthen strike his weakest point, --that had made him a great lawyer anddiplomat. Shirley had played chess with her father until she had learnedto see around corners as he did, and she liked a problem, a test of wit, a contest of powers. She knew how to wait and ponder in silence, andtherein lay the joy of the saddle, when she could ride alone with nogroom to bother her, and watch enchantments unfold on the hilltops. 

Once free of the settlement she rode far and fast, until she was quitebeyond the usual routes of the Springs excursionists; then in mountainbyways she enjoyed the luxury of leisure and dismounted now and then todelight in the green of the laurel and question the rhododendrons. 

Jules Chauvenet had scoured the hills all day and explored manymountain paths and inquired cautiously of the natives. The telegraphoperator at the Storm Springs inn was a woman, and the despatch andreceipt by Jules Chauvenet of long messages, many of them in cipher, piqued her curiosity. No member of the Washington diplomatic circle whocame to the Springs, --not even the shrewd and secretive RussianAmbassador, --received longer or more cryptic cables. With the socialdiversions of the Springs and the necessity for making a show of havingsome legitimate business in America, Jules Chauvenet was pretty welloccupied; and now the presence of John Armitage in Virginia added to hisburdens. 

He was tired and perplexed, and it was with unaffected pleasure that herode out of an obscure hill-path into a bit of open wood overhanging acurious defile and came upon Shirley Claiborne. 

The soil was soft and his horse carried him quite near before she heardhim. A broad sheet of water flashed down the farther side of the narrowpass, sending up a pretty spurt of spray wherever it struck the juttingrock. As Shirley turned toward him he urged his horse over the springyturf. 

"A pity to disturb the picture, Miss Claiborne! A thousand pardons! But Ireally wished to see whether the figure could come out of the canvas. Nowthat I have dared to make the test, pray do not send me away. "

Her horse turned restlessly and brought her face to face with Chauvenet. 

"Steady, Fanny! Don't come near her, please--" this last to Chauvenet, who had leaped down and put out his hand to her horse's bridle. She hadthe true horsewoman's pride in caring for herself and her eyes flashedangrily for a moment at Chauvenet's proffered aid. A man might open adoor for her or pick up her handkerchief, but to touch her horse was analtogether different business. The pretty, graceful mare was calm in amoment and arched her neck contentedly under the stroke of Shirley'shand. 

"Beautiful! The picture is even more perfect, Mademoiselle!"

"Fanny is best in action, and splendid when she runs away. She hasn't runaway to-day, but I think she is likely to before I get home. "

She was thinking of the long ride which she had no intention of taking inChauvenet's company. He stood uncovered beside her, holding his horse. 

"But the danger, Mademoiselle! You should not hazard your life with arunaway horse on these roads. It is not fair to your friends. "

"You are a conservative, Monsieur. I should be ashamed to have a runawayin a city park, but what does one come to the country for?"

"What, indeed, but for excitement? You are not of those tame young womenacross the sea who come out into the world from a convent, frightened atall they see and whisper 'Yes, Sister, ' 'No, Sister, ' to everything theyhear. "

"Yes; we Americans are deficient in shyness and humility. I have oftenheard it remarked, Monsieur Chauvenet. "

"No! No! You misunderstand! Those deficiencies, as you term them, aredelightful; they are what give the charm to the American woman. I hopeyou would not believe me capable of speaking in disparagement, Mademoiselle, --you must know--"

The water tumbled down the rock into the vale; the soft air was sweetwith the scent of pines. An eagle cruised high against the blue overhead. Shirley's hand tightened on the rein, and Fanny lifted her headexpectantly. 

Chauvenet went on rapidly in French:

"You must know why I am here--why I have crossed the sea to seek you inyour own home. I have loved you, Mademoiselle, from the moment I firstsaw you in Florence. Here, with only the mountains, the sky, the wood, I must speak. You must hear--you must believe, that I love you! I offeryou my life, my poor attainments--"

"Monsieur, you do me a great honor, but I can not listen. What you ask isimpossible, quite impossible. But, Monsieur--"

Her eyes had fallen upon a thicket behind him where something hadstirred. She thought at first that it was an animal of some sort; but shesaw now quite distinctly a man's shabby felt hat that rose slowly untilthe bearded face of its wearer was disclosed. 

"Monsieur!" cried Shirley in a low tone; "look behind you and be carefulwhat you say or do. Leave the man to me. "

Chauvenet turned and faced a scowling mountaineer who held a rifle anddrew it to his shoulder as Chauvenet threw out his arms, dropped them tohis thighs and laughed carelessly. 

"What is it, my dear fellow--my watch--my purse--my horse?" he said inEnglish. 

"He wants none of those things, " said Shirley, urging her horse a fewsteps toward the man. "The mountain people are not robbers. What can wedo for you?" she asked pleasantly. 

"You cain't do nothin' for me, " drawled the man. "Go on away, Miss. Iwant to see this little fella'. I got a little business with him. "

"He is a foreigner--he knows little of our language. You will do best tolet me stay, " said Shirley. 

She had not the remotest idea of what the man wanted, but she had knownthe mountain folk from childhood and well understood that familiaritywith their ways and tact were necessary in dealing with them. 

"Miss, I have seen you befo', and I reckon we ain't got no cause fortrouble with you; but this little fella' ain't no business up hy'eh. Themhotel people has their own places to ride and drive, and it's all rightfor you, Miss; but what's yo' frien' ridin' the hills for at night? He'slookin' for some un', and I reckon as how that some un' air me!"

He spoke drawlingly with a lazy good humor in his tones, and Shirley'swits took advantage of his deliberation to consider the situation fromseveral points of view. Chauvenet stood looking from Shirley to the manand back again. He was by no means a coward, and he did not in the leastrelish the thought of owing his safety to a woman. But the confidencewith which Shirley addressed the man, and her apparent familiarity withthe peculiarities of the mountaineers impressed him. He spoke to herrapidly in French. 

"Assure the man that I never heard of him before in my life--that theidea of seeking him never occurred to me. "

The rifle--a repeater of the newest type--went to the man's shoulder in aflash and the blue barrel pointed at Chauvenet's head. 

"None o' that! I reckon the American language air good enough for these'ere negotiations. "

Chauvenet shrugged his shoulders; but he gazed into the muzzle of therifle unflinchingly. 

"The gentleman was merely explaining that you are mistaken; that he doesnot know you and never heard of you before, and that he has not beenlooking for you in the mountains or anywhere else. "

As Shirley spoke these words very slowly and distinctly she questionedfor the first time Chauvenet's position. Perhaps, after all, themountaineer had a real cause of grievance. It seemed wholly unlikely, butwhile she listened to the man's reply she weighed the matter judicially. They were in an unfrequented part of the mountains, which cottagers andhotel guests rarely explored. The mountaineer was saying:

"Mountain folks air slow, and we don't know much, but a stranger don'tride through these hills more than once for the scenery; the second timehe's got to tell why; and the third time--well, Miss, you kin tell thelittle fella' that there ain't no third time. "

Chauvenet flushed and he ejaculated hotly:

"I have never been here before in my life. "

The man dropped the rifle into his arm without taking his eyes fromChauvenet. He said succinctly, but still with his drawl:

"You air a liar, seh!"

Chauvenet took a step forward, looked again into the rifle barrel, andstopped short. Fanny, bored by the prolonged interview, bent her neck andnibbled at a weed. 

"This gentleman has been in America only a few weeks; you are certainlymistaken, friend, " said Shirley boldly. Then the color flashed into herface, as an explanation of the mountaineer's interest in a strangerriding the hills occurred to her. 

"My friend, " she said, "I am Miss Claiborne. You may know my father'shouse down in the valley. We have been coming here as far back as I canremember. "

The mountaineer listened to her gravely, and at her last words heunconsciously nodded his head. Shirley, seeing that he was interested, seized her advantage. 

"I have no reason for misleading you. This gentleman is not a revenueman. He probably never heard of a--still, do you call it?--in hislife--" and she smiled upon him sweetly. "But if you will let him go Ipromise to satisfy you entirely in the matter. "

Chauvenet started to speak, but Shirley arrested him with a gesture, andspoke again to the mountaineer in her most engaging tone:

"We are both mountaineers, you and I, and we don't want any of our peopleto be carried off to jail. Isn't that so? Now let this gentleman rideaway, and I shall stay here until I have quite assured you that you aremistaken about him. "

She signaled Chauvenet to mount, holding the mystified and reluctantmountaineer with her eyes. Her heart was thumping fast and her hand shooka little as she tightened her grasp on the rein. She addressed Chauvenetin English as a mark of good faith to their captor. 

"Ride on, Monsieur; do not wait for me. "

"But it is growing dark--I can not leave you alone, Mademoiselle. Youhave rendered me a great service, when it is I who should have extricatedyou--"

"Pray do not mention it! It is a mere chance that I am able to help. Ishall be perfectly safe with this gentleman. "

The mountaineer took off his hat. 

"Thank ye, Miss, " he said; and then to Chauvenet: "Get out!"

"Don't trouble about me in the least, Monsieur Chauvenet, " and Shirleyaffirmed the last word with a nod as Chauvenet jumped into his saddle androde off. When the swift gallop of his horse had carried him out ofsight and sound down the road, Shirley faced the mountaineer. 

"What is your name?"

"Tom Selfridge. "

"Whom did you take that man to be, Mr. Selfridge?" asked Shirley, and inher eagerness she bent down above the mountaineer's bared tangle of tow. 

"The name you called him ain't it. It's a queer name I never heerd tellon befo'--it's--it's like the a'my--"

"Is it Armitage?" asked Shirley quickly. 

"That's it, Miss! The postmaster over at Lamar told me to look out fer'im. He's moved up hy'eh, and it ain't fer no good. The word's out that acity man's lookin' for some_thing_ or some_body_ in these hills. Andthe man's stayin'--"

"Where?"

"At the huntin' club where folks don't go no more. I ain't seen him, butth' word's passed. He's a city man and a stranger, and got a littlefella' that's been a soldier into th' army stayin' with 'im. I thoughtyo' furriner was him, Miss, honest to God I did. "

The incident amused Shirley and she laughed aloud. She had undoubtedlygained information that Chauvenet had gone forth to seek; she had--andthe thing was funny--served Chauvenet well in explaining away hispresence in the mountains and getting him out of the clutches of themountaineer, while at the same time she was learning for herself the factof Armitage's whereabouts and keeping it from Chauvenet. It was a curiousadventure, and she gave her hand smilingly to the mystified and stilldoubting mountaineer. 

"I give you my word of honor that neither man is a government officer andneither one has the slightest interest in you--will you believe me?"

"I reckon I got to, Miss. "

"Good; and now, Mr. Selfridge, it is growing dark and I want you to walkdown this trail with me until we come to the Storm Springs road. "

"I'll do it gladly, Miss. "

"Thank you; now let us be off. "

She made him turn back when they reached a point from which they couldlook upon the electric lights of the Springs colony, and where the bighotel and its piazzas shone like a steamship at night. A moment laterChauvenet, who had waited impatiently, joined her, and they rode downtogether. She referred at once to the affair with the mountaineer in hermost frivolous key. 

"They are an odd and suspicious people, but they're as loyal as thestars. And please let us never mention the matter again--not to any one, if you please, Monsieur!"

CHAPTER XVI

NARROW MARGINS

The black-caps pipe among the reeds, And there'll be rain to follow;There is a murmur as of wind In every coign and hollow;The wrens do chatter of their fearsWhile swinging on the barley-ears. 

--Amélie Rives. 

The Judge and Mrs. Claiborne were dining with some old friends in thevalley, and Shirley, left alone, carried to the table several lettersthat had come in the late mail. The events of the afternoon filled hermind, and she was not sorry to be alone. It occurred to her that she wasbuilding up a formidable tower of strange secrets, and she wonderedwhether, having begun by keeping her own counsel as to the attempts shehad witnessed against John Armitage's life, she ought now to unfold allshe knew to her father or to Dick. In the twentieth century homicide wasnot a common practice among men she knew or was likely to know; and thefeeling of culpability for her silence crossed lances with a deepeningsympathy for Armitage. She had learned where he was hiding, and shesmiled at the recollection of the trifling bit of strategy she hadpractised upon Chauvenet. 

The maid who served Shirley noted with surprise the long pauses in whichher young mistress sat staring across the table lost in reverie. A prettypicture was Shirley in these intervals: one hand raised to her cheek, bright from the sting of the spring wind in the hills. Her forearm, whiteand firm and strong, was circled by a band of Roman gold, the onlyornament she wore, and when she lifted her hand with its quick deftgesture, the trinket flashed away from her wrist and clasped the warmflesh as though in joy of the closer intimacy. Her hair was swept up highfrom her brow; her nose, straight, like her father's, was saved fromarrogance by a sensitive mouth, all eloquent of kindness and wholesomemirth--but we take unfair advantage! A girl dining in candle-light withonly her dreams for company should be safe from impertinent eyes. 

She had kept Dick's letter till the last. He wrote often and in the keyof his talk. She dropped a lump of sugar into her coffee-cup and read hishurried scrawl:

"What do you think has happened now? I have fourteen dollars' worth oftelegrams from Sanderson--wiring from some God-forsaken hole in Montana, that it's all rot about Armitage being that fake Baron von Kissel. Thenewspaper accounts of the _exposé_ at my supper party had just reachedhim, and he says Armitage was on his (Armitage's) ranch all that summerthe noble baron was devastating our northern sea-coast. Where, may I ask, does this leave me? And what cad gave that story to the papers? Andwhere and _who_ is John Armitage? Keep this mum for the present--evenfrom the governor. If Sanderson is right, Armitage will undoubtedly turnup again--he has a weakness for turning up in your neighborhood!--andsooner or later he's bound to settle accounts with Chauvenet. Now that Ithink of it, who in the devil is _he_! And why didn't Armitage call himdown there at the club? As I think over the whole business my mind growsaddled, and I feel as though I had been kicked by a horse. "

 * * * * *

Shirley laughed softly, keeping the note open before her and referring toit musingly as she stirred her coffee. She could not answer any of Dick'squestions, but her interest in the contest between Armitage and Chauvenetwas intensified by this latest turn in the affair. She read for an hourin the library, but the air was close, and she threw aside her book, drewon a light coat and went out upon the veranda. A storm was stealing downfrom the hills, and the fitful wind tasted of rain. She walked the lengthof the veranda several times, then paused at the farther end of it, wheresteps led out into the pergola. There was still a mist of starlight, andshe looked out upon the vague outlines of the garden with thoughts of itsneeds and the gardener's work for the morrow. Then she was aware of alight step far out in the pergola, and listened carelessly to mark it, thinking it one of the house servants returning from a neighbor's; butthe sound was furtive, and as she waited it ceased abruptly. She wasabout to turn into the house to summon help when she heard a stir in theshrubbery in quite another part of the garden, and in a moment thestooping figure of a man moved swiftly toward the pergola. 

Shirley stood quite still, watching and listening. The sound of steps inthe pergola reached her again, then the rush of flight, and out in thegarden a flying figure darted in and out among the walks. For severalminutes two dark figures played at vigorous hide-and-seek. Occasionallygravel crunched underfoot and shrubbery snapped back with a sharp swishwhere it was caught and held for support at corners. Pursued and pursuerwere alike silent; the scene was like a pantomime. 

Then the tables seemed to be turned; the bulkier figure of the pursuerwas now in flight; and Shirley lost both for a moment, but immediately adark form rose at the wall; she heard the scratch of feet upon the bricksurface as a man gained the top, turned and lifted his arm as thoughaiming a weapon. 

Then a dark object, hurled through the air, struck him squarely in theface and he tumbled over the wall, and Shirley heard him crash throughthe hedge of the neighboring estate, then all was quiet again. 

The game of hide-and-seek in the garden and the scramble over the wallhad consumed only two or three minutes, and Shirley now waited, her eyesbent upon the darkly-outlined pergola for some manifestation from theremaining intruder. A man now walked rapidly toward the veranda, carryinga cloak on his arm. She recognized Armitage instantly. He doffed his hatand bowed. The lights of the house lamps shone full upon him, and she sawthat he was laughing a little breathlessly. 

"This is really fortunate, Miss Claiborne. I owe your house an apology, and if you will grant me audience I will offer it to you. "

He threw the cloak over his shoulder and fanned himself with his hat. 

"You are a most informal person, Mr. Armitage, " said Shirley coldly. 

"I'm afraid I am! The most amazing ill luck follows me! I had dropped into enjoy the quiet and charm of your garden, but the tranquil life is notfor me. There was another gentleman, equally bent on enjoying thepergola. We engaged in a pretty running match, and because I was fleeterof foot he grew ugly and tried to put me out of commission. "

He was still laughing, but Shirley felt that he was again trying to makelight of a serious situation, and a further tie of secrecy with Armitagewas not to her liking. As he walked boldly to the veranda steps, shestepped back from him. 

"No! No! This is impossible--it will not do at all, Mr. Armitage. It isnot kind of you to come here in this strange fashion. "

"In this way forsooth! How could I send in my card when I was beingchased all over the estate! I didn't mean to apologize for coming"--andhe laughed again, with a sincere mirth that shook her resolution to dealharshly with him. "But, " he went on, "it was the flowerpot! He was madbecause I beat him in the foot-race and wanted to shoot me from the wall, and I tossed him a potted geranium--geraniums are splendid for thepurpose--and it caught him square in the head. I have the knack of it!Once before I handed him a boiling-pot!"

"It must have hurt him, " said Shirley; and he laughed at her tone thatwas meant to be severe. 

"I certainly hope so; I most devoutly hope he felt it! He was mosttenderly solicitous for my health; and if he had really shot me there inthe garden it would have had an ugly look. Armitage, the false baron, would have been identified as a daring burglar, shot while trying toburglarize the Claiborne mansion! But I wouldn't take the Claiborne platefor anything, I assure you!"

"I suppose you didn't think of us--all of us, and the unpleasantconsequences to my father and brother if something disagreeable happenedhere!"

There was real anxiety in her tone, and he saw that he was going too farwith his light treatment of the affair. His tone changed instantly. 

"Please forgive me! I would not cause embarrassment or annoyance to anymember of your family for kingdoms. I didn't know I was being followed--Ihad come here to see you. That is the truth of it. "

"You mustn't try to see me! You mustn't come here at all unless you comewith the knowledge of my father. And the very fact that your life issought so persistently--at most unusual times and in impossible places, leaves very much to explain. "

"I know that! I realize all that!"

"Then you must not come! You must leave instantly. "

She walked away toward the front door; but he followed, and at the doorshe turned to him again. They were in the full glare of the door lamps, and she saw that his face was very earnest, and as he began to speak heflinched and shifted the cloak awkwardly. 

"You have been hurt--why did you not tell me that?"

"It is nothing--the fellow had a knife, and he--but it's only a trifle inthe shoulder. I must be off!"

The lightning had several times leaped sharply out of the hills; the windwas threshing the garden foliage, and now the rain roared on the tin roofof the veranda. 

As he spoke a carriage rolled into the grounds and came rapidly towardthe porte-cochère. 

"I'm off--please believe in me--a little. "

"You must not go if you are hurt--and you can't run away now--my fatherand mother are at the door. "

There was an instant's respite while the carriage drew up to the verandasteps. She heard the stable-boy running out to help with the horses. 

"You can't go now; come in and wait. "

There was no time for debate. She flung open the door and swept him pasther with a gesture--through the library and beyond, into a smaller roomused by Judge Claiborne as an office. Armitage sank down on a leathercouch as Shirley flung the portieres together with a sharp rattle of therod rings. 

She walked toward the hall door as her father and mother entered from theveranda. 

"All, Miss Claiborne! Your father and mother picked me up and brought mein out of the rain. Your Storm Valley is giving us a taste of itspowers. "

And Shirley went forward to greet Baron von Marhof. 

CHAPTER XVII

A GENTLEMAN IN HIDING

Oh, sweetly fall the April days! My love was made of frost and light, Of light to warm and frost to blightThe sweet, strange April of her ways. Eyes like a dream of changing skies, And every frown and blush I prize. With cloud and flush the spring comes in, With frown and blush maids' loves begin;For love is rare like April days. 

--L. Frank Tooker. 

Mrs. Claiborne excused herself shortly, and Shirley, her father and theAmbassador talked to the accompaniment of the shower that drove in greatsheets against the house. Shirley was wholly uncomfortable over the turnof affairs. The Ambassador would not leave until the storm abated, andmeanwhile Armitage must remain where he was. If by any chance he shouldbe discovered in the house no ordinary excuses would explain away hispresence, and as she pondered the matter, it was Armitage's plight--hisinjuries and the dangers that beset him--that was uppermost in her mind. The embarrassment that lay in the affair for herself if Armitage shouldbe found concealed in the house troubled her little. Her heart beatwildly as she realized this; and the look in his eyes and the quick painthat twitched his face at the door haunted her. 

The two men were talking of the new order of things in Vienna. 

"The trouble is, " said the Ambassador, "that Austria-Hungary is not anation, but what Metternich called Italy--a geographical expression. Where there are so many loose ends a strong grasp is necessary to holdthem together. "

"And a weak hand, " suggested Judge Claiborne, "might easily lose orscatter them. "

"Precisely. And a man of character and spirit could topple down thecard-house to-morrow, pick out what he liked, and create for himself anew edifice--and a stronger one. I speak frankly. Von Stroebel is out ofthe way; the new Emperor-king is a weakling, and if he should dieto-night or to-morrow--"

The Ambassador lifted his hands and snapped his fingers. 

"Yes; after him, what?"

"After him his scoundrelly cousin Francis; and then a stronger than VonStroebel might easily fail to hold the _disjecta membra_ of the Empiretogether. "

"But there are shadows on the screen, " remarked Judge Claiborne. "Therewas Karl--the mad prince. "

"Humph! There was some red blood in him; but he was impossible; he had ataint of democracy, treason, rebellion. "

Judge Claiborne laughed. 

"I don't like the combination of terms. If treason and rebellion aresynonyms of democracy, we Americans are in danger. "

"No; you are a miracle--that is the only explanation, " replied Marhof. 

"But a man like Karl--what if he were to reappear in the world! A littledemocracy might solve your problem. "

"No, thank God! he is out of the way. He was sane enough to take himselfoff and die. "

"But his ghost walks. Not a year ago we heard of him; and he had a sonwho chose his father's exile. What if Charles Louis, who is withoutheirs, should die and Karl or his son--"

"In the providence of God they are dead. Impostors gain a little briefnotoriety by pretending to be the lost Karl or his son FrederickAugustus; but Von Stroebel satisfied himself that Karl was dead. I amquite sure of it. You know dear Stroebel had a genius for gaininginformation. "

"I have heard as much, " and Shirley and the Baron smiled at JudgeClaiborne's tone. 

The storm was diminishing and Shirley grew more tranquil. Soon theAmbassador would leave and she would send Armitage away; but the mentionof Stroebel's name rang oddly in her ears, and the curious way in whichArmitage and Chauvenet had come into her life awoke new and anxiousquestions. 

"Count von Stroebel was not a democrat, at any rate, " she said. "Hebelieved in the divine right and all that. "

"So do I, Miss Claiborne. It's all we've got to stand on!"

"But suppose a democratic prince were to fall heir to one of the Europeanthrones, insist on giving his crown to the poor and taking his oath in afrock coat, upsetting the old order entirely--"

"He would be a fool, and the people would drag him to the block in aweek, " declared the Baron vigorously. 

They pursued the subject in lighter vein a few minutes longer, then theBaron rose. Judge Claiborne summoned the waiting carriage from thestable, and the Baron drove home. 

"I ought to work for an hour on that Danish claims matter, " remarked theJudge, glancing toward his curtained den. 

"You will do nothing of the kind! Night work is not permitted in thevalley. "

"Thank you! I hoped you would say that, Shirley. I believe I am tired;and now if you will find a magazine for me, I'll go to bed. Ring forThomas to close the house. "

"I have a few notes to write; they'll take only a minute, and I'll writethem here. "

She heard her father's door close, listened to be quite sure that thehouse was quiet, and threw back the curtains. Armitage stepped out intothe library. 

"You must go--you must go!" she whispered with deep tensity. 

"Yes; I must go. You have been kind--you are most generous--"

But she went before him to the hall, waited, listened, for one instant;then threw open the outer door and bade him go. The rain dripped heavilyfrom the eaves, and the cool breath of the freshened air was sweet andstimulating. She was immensely relieved to have him out of the house, buthe lingered on the veranda, staring helplessly about. 

"I shall go home, " he said, but so unsteadily that she looked at himquickly. He carried the cloak flung over his shoulder and in readjustingit dropped it to the floor, and she saw in the light of the door lampsthat his arm hung limp at his side and the gray cloth of his sleeve washeavy and dark with blood. With a quick gesture she stooped and picked upthe cloak. 

"Come! Come! This is all very dreadful--you must go to a physician atonce. "

"My man and horse are waiting for me; the injury is nothing. " But shethrew the cloak over his shoulders and led the way, across the veranda, and out upon the walk. 

"I do not need the doctor--not now. My man will care for me. "

He started through the dark toward the outer wall, as though confused, and she went before him toward the side entrance. He was aware of herquick light step, of the soft rustle of her skirts, of a wish to send herback, which his tongue could not voice; but he knew that it was sweet tofollow her leading. At the gate he took his bearings with a new assuranceand strength. 

"It seems that I always appear to you in some miserable fashion--it ispreposterous for me to ask forgiveness. To thank you--"

"Please say nothing at all--but go! Your enemies must not find you hereagain--you must leave the valley!"

"I have a work to do! But it must not touch your life. Your happiness istoo much, too sweet to me. "

"You must leave the bungalow--I found out to-day where you are staying. There is a new danger there--the mountain people think you are a revenueofficer. I told one of them--"

"Yes?"

"--that you are not! That is enough. Now hurry away. You must find yourhorse and go. "

He bent and kissed her hand. 

"You trust me; that is the dearest thing in the world. " His voicefaltered and broke in a sob, for he was worn and weak, and the mystery ofthe night and the dark silent garden wove a spell upon him and his heartleaped at the touch of his lips upon her fingers. Their figures were onlyblurs in the dark, and their low tones died instantly, muffled by thenight. She opened the gate as he began to promise not to appear beforeher again in any way to bring her trouble; but her low whisper arrestedhim. 

"Do not let them hurt you again--" she said; and he felt her hand seekhis, felt its cool furtive pressure for a moment; and then she was gone. He heard the house door close a moment later, and gazing across thegarden, saw the lights on the veranda flash out. 

Then with a smile on his face he strode away to find Oscar and thehorses. 

CHAPTER XVIII

AN EXCHANGE OF MESSAGES

When youth was lord of my unchallenged fate, And time seemed but the vassal of my will, I entertained certain guests of state-- The great of older days, who, faithful still, Have kept with me the pact my youth had made. 

--S. Weir Mitchell. 

"Who am I?" asked John Armitage soberly. 

He tossed the stick of a match into the fireplace, where a pine-knotsmoldered, drew his pipe into a glow and watched Oscar screw the top on abox of ointment which he had applied to Armitage's arm. The littlesoldier turned and stood sharply at attention. 

"Yon are Mr. John Armitage, sir. A man's name is what he says it is. Itis the rule of the country. "

"Thank you, Oscar. Your words reassure me. There have been times latelywhen I have been in doubt myself. You are a pretty good doctor. "

"First aid to the injured; I learned the trick from a hospital steward. If you are not poisoned, and do not die, you will recover--yes?"

"Thank you, Sergeant. You are a consoling spirit; but I assure you on myhonor as a gentleman that if I die I shall certainly haunt you. This isthe fourth day. To-morrow I shall throw away the bandage and be quiteready for more trouble. "

"It would be better on the fifth--"

"The matter is settled. You will now go for the mail; and do take carethat no one pots you on the way. Your death would be a positive loss tome, Oscar. And if any one asks how My Majesty is--mark, My Majesty--praysay that I am quite well and equal to ruling over many kingdoms. "

"Yes, sire. "

And Armitage roared with laughter, as the little man, pausing as hebuckled a cartridge belt under his coat, bowed with a fine mockery ofreverence. 

"If a man were king he could have a devilish fine time of it, Oscar. "

"He could review many troops and they would fire salutes until the powdercost much money. "

"You are mighty right, as we say in Montana; and I'll tell you quiteconfidentially, Sergeant, that if I were out of work and money and neededa job the thought of being king might tempt me. These gentlemen who aretrying to stick knives into me think highly of my chances. They may forceme into the business--" and Armitage rose and kicked the flaring knot. 

Oscar drew on his gauntlet with a jerk. 

"They killed the great prime minister--yes?"

"They undoubtedly did, Oscar. "

"He was a good man--he was a very great man, " said Oscar slowly, and wentquickly out and closed the door softly after him. 

The life of the two men in the bungalow was established in a definiteroutine. Oscar was drilled in habits of observation and attention and herealized without being told that some serious business was afoot; he knewthat Armitage's life had been attempted, and that the receipt anddespatch of telegrams was a part of whatever errand had brought hismaster to the Virginia hills. His occupations were wholly to his liking;there was simple food to eat; there were horses to tend; and his errandsabroad were of the nature of scouting and in keeping with one's dignitywho had been a soldier. He rose often at night to look abroad, andsometimes he found Armitage walking the veranda or returning froma tramp through the wood. Armitage spent much time studying papers; andonce, the day after Armitage submitted his wounded arm to Oscar's care, he had seemed upon the verge of a confidence. 

"To save life; to prevent disaster; to do a little good in the world--todo something for Austria--such things are to the soul's credit, Oscar, "and then Armitage's mood changed and he had begun chaffing in a fashionthat was beyond Oscar's comprehension. 

The little soldier rode over the hills to Lamar Station in the waningspring twilight, asked at the telegraph office for messages, stuffedArmitage's mail into his pockets at the post-office, and turned home asthe moonlight poured down the slopes and flooded the valleys. TheVirginia roads have been cursed by larger armies than any that evermarched in Flanders, but Oscar was not a swearing man. He paused to resthis beast occasionally and to observe the landscape with the eyeof a strategist. Moonlight, he remembered, was a useful accessory of theassassin's trade, and the faint sounds of the spring night were allpromptly traced to their causes as they reached his alert ears. 

At the gate of the hunting-park grounds he bent forward in the saddle tolift the chain that held it; urged his horse inside, bent down torefasten it, and as his fingers clutched the iron a man rose in theshadow of the little lodge and clasped him about the middle. The ironchain swung free and rattled against the post, and the horse snorted withfright, then, at a word from Oscar, was still. There was the barestsecond of waiting, in which the long arms tightened, and the great bodyof his assailant hung heavily about him; then he dug spurs into thehorse's flanks and the animal leaped forward with a snort of rage, jumpedout of the path and tore away through the woods. 

Oscar's whole strength was taxed to hold his seat as the burly figurethumped against the horse's flanks. He had hoped to shake the man off, but the great arms still clasped him. The situation could not last. Oscartook advantage of the moonlight to choose a spot in which to terminateit. He had his bearings now, and as they crossed an opening in the woodhe suddenly loosened his grip on the horse and flung himself backward. His assailant, no longer supported, rolled to the ground with Oscar ontop of him, and the freed horse galloped away toward the stable. 

A rough and tumble fight now followed. Oscar's lithe, vigorous bodywrithed in the grasp of his antagonist, now free, now clasped by giantarms. They saw each other's faces plainly in the clear moonlight, and atbreathless pauses in the struggle their eyes maintained the state of war. At one instant, when both men lay with arms interlocked, half-lying ontheir thighs, Oscar hissed in the giant's ear:

"You are a Servian: it is an ugly race. "

And the Servian cursed him in a fierce growl. 

"We expected you; you are a bad hand with the knife, " grunted Oscar, andfeeling the bellows-like chest beside him expand, as though inpreparation for a renewal of the fight, he suddenly wrenched himself freeof the Servian's grasp, leaped away a dozen paces to the shelter of agreat pine, and turned, revolver in hand. 

"Throw up your hands, " he yelled. 

The Servian fired without pausing for aim, the shot ringing out sharplythrough the wood. Then Oscar discharged his revolver three times in quicksuccession, and while the discharges were still keen on the air he drewquickly back to a clump of underbrush, and crept away a dozen yards towatch events. The Servian, with his eyes fixed upon the tree behind whichhis adversary had sought shelter, grew anxious, and thrust his headforward warily. 

Then he heard a sound as of some one running through the wood to the leftand behind him, but still the man he had grappled on the horse made nosign. It dawned upon him that the three shots fired in front of him hadbeen a signal, and in alarm he turned toward the gate, but a voice nearat hand called loudly, "Oscar!" and repeated the name several times. 

Behind the Servian the little soldier answered sharply in English:

"All steady, sir!"

The use of a strange tongue added to the Servian's bewilderment, and hefled toward the gate, with Oscar hard after him. Then Armitage suddenlyleaped out of the shadows directly in his path and stopped him with aleveled revolver. 

"Easy work, Oscar! Take the gentleman's gun and be sure to find hisknife. "

The task was to Oscar's taste, and he made quick work of the Servian'spockets. 

"Your horse was a good despatch bearer. You are all sound, Oscar?"

"Never better, sir. A revolver and two knives--" the weapons flashed inthe moonlight as he held them up. 

"Good! Now start your friend toward the bungalow. "

They set off at a quick pace, soon found the rough driveway, and trudgedalong silently, the Servian between his captors. 

When they reached the house Armitage flung open the door and followedOscar and the prisoner into the long sitting-room. 

Armitage lighted a pipe at the mantel, readjusted the bandage on his arm, and laughed aloud as he looked upon the huge figure of the Servianstanding beside the sober little cavalryman. 

"Oscar, there are certainly giants in these days, and we have caught one. You will please see that the cylinder of your revolver is in good orderand prepare to act as clerk of our court-martial. If the prisoner moves, shoot him. "

He spoke these last words very deliberately in German, and theServian's small eyes blinked his comprehension. Armitage sat down on thewriting-table, with his own revolver and the prisoner's knives and pistolwithin reach of his available hand. A smile of amusement played over hisface as he scrutinized the big body and its small, bullet-like head. 

"He is a large devil, " commented Oscar. 

"He is large, certainly, " remarked Armitage. "Give him a chair. Now, " hesaid to the man in deliberate German, "I shall say a few things to youwhich I am very anxious for you to understand. You are a Servian. "

The man nodded. 

"Your name is Zmai Miletich. "

The man shifted his great bulk uneasily in his chair and fastened hislusterless little eyes upon Armitage. 

"Your name, " repeated Armitage, "is Zmai Miletich; your home is, or was, in the village of Toplica, where you were a blacksmith until you became athief. You are employed as an assassin by two gentlemen known asChauvenet and Durand--do you follow me?"

The man was indeed following him with deep engrossment. His narrowforehead was drawn into minute wrinkles; his small eyes seemed to recedeinto his head; his great body turned uneasily. 

"I ask you again, " repeated Armitage, "whether you follow me. There mustbe no mistake. "

Oscar, anxious to take his own part in the conversation, prodded Zmai inthe ribs with a pistol barrel, and the big fellow growled and nodded hishead. 

"There is a house in the outskirts of Vienna where you have been employedat times as gardener, and another house in Geneva where you wait fororders. At this latter place it was my great pleasure to smash you in thehead with a boiling-pot on a certain evening in March. "

The man scowled and ejaculated an oath with so much venom that Armitagelaughed. 

"Your conspirators are engaged upon a succession of murders, andwhen they have removed the last obstacle they will establish a newEmperor-king in Vienna and you will receive a substantial reward forwhat you have done--"

The blood suffused the man's dark face, and he half rose, a great roar ofangry denial breaking from him. 

"That will do. You tried to kill me on the _King Edward_; you tried yourknife on me again down there in Judge Claiborne's garden; and you came uphere tonight with a plan to kill my man and then take your time to me. Give me the mail, Oscar. "

He opened the letters which Oscar had brought and scanned several thatbore a Paris postmark, and when he had pondered their contents a momenthe laughed and jumped from the table. He brought a portfolio from hisbedroom and sat down to write. 

"Don't shoot the gentleman as long as he is quiet. You may even give hima glass of whisky to soothe his feelings. "

Armitage wrote:

 * * * * *

"MONSIEUR:

"Your assassin is a clumsy fellow and you will do well to send him backto the blacksmith shop at Toplica. I learn that Monsieur Durand, distressed by the delay in affairs in America, will soon join you--iseven now aboard the _Tacoma_, bound for New York. I am profoundlygrateful for this, dear Monsieur, as it gives me an opportunity toconclude our interesting business in republican territory withoutprejudice to any of the parties chiefly concerned. 

"You are a clever and daring rogue, yet at times you strike me asimmensely dull, Monsieur. Ponder this: should it seem expedient for me toestablish my identity--which I am sure interests you greatly--beforeBaron von Marhof, and, we will add, the American Secretary of State, bequite sure that I shall not do so until I have taken precautions againstyour departure in any unseemly haste. I, myself, dear friend, am notwithout a certain facility in setting traps. "

 * * * * *

Armitage threw down the pen and read what he had written with care. Thenhe wrote as signature the initials F. A. , inclosed the note in an envelopeand addressed it, pondered again, laughed and slapped his knee and wentinto his room, where he rummaged about until he found a small sealbeautifully wrought in bronze and a bit of wax. Returning to the table helighted a candle, and deftly sealed the letter. He held the red scar onthe back of the envelope to the lamp and examined it with interest. Thelines of the seal were deep cut, and the impression was perfectlydistinct, of F. A. In English script, linked together by the bar of the F. 

"Oscar, what do you recommend that we do with the prisoner?"

"He should be tied to a tree and shot; or, perhaps, it would be better tohang him to the rafters in the kitchen. Yet he is heavy and might pulldown the roof. "

"You are a bloodthirsty wretch, and there is no mercy in you. Privateexecutions are not allowed in this country; you would have us before aVirginia grand jury and our own necks stretched. No; we shall send himback to his master. "

"It is a mistake. If your Excellency would go away for an hour he shouldnever know where the buzzards found this large carcass. "

"Tush! I would not trust his valuable life to you. Get up!" he commanded, and Oscar jerked Zmai to his feet. 

"You deserve nothing at my hands, but I need a discreet messenger, andyou shall not die to-night, as my worthy adjutant recommends. To-morrownight, however, or the following night--or any other old night, as we sayin America--if you show yourself in these hills, my chief of staff shallhave his way with you--buzzard meat!"

"The orders are understood, " said Oscar, thrusting the revolver into thegiant's ribs. 

"Now, Zmai, blacksmith of Toplica, and assassin at large, here is aletter for Monsieur Chauvenet. It is still early. When you have deliveredit, bring me back the envelope with Monsieur's receipt written righthere, under the seal. Do you understand?"

It had begun to dawn upon Zmai that his life was not in immediate danger, and the light of intelligence kindled again in his strange little eyes. Lest he might not fully grasp the errand with which Armitage intrustedhim, Oscar repeated what Armitage had said in somewhat coarser terms. 

Again through the moonlight strode the three--out of Armitage's land tothe valley road and to the same point to which Shirley Claiborne had onlya few days before been escorted by the mountaineer. 

There they sent the Servian forward to the Springs, and Armitage wenthome, leaving Oscar to wait for the return of the receipt. 

It was after midnight when Oscar placed it in Armitage's hands at thebungalow. 

"Oscar, it would be a dreadful thing to kill a man, " Armitage declared, holding the empty envelope to the light and reading the line scrawledbeneath the unbroken wax. It was in French:

"You are young to die, Monsieur. "

"A man more or less!" and Oscar shrugged his shoulders. 

"You are not a good churchman. It is a grievous sin to do murder. "

"One may repent; it is so written. The people of your house are Catholicsalso. "

"That is quite true, though I may seem to forget it. Our work will bedone soon, please God, and we shall ask the blessed sacrament somewherein these hills. "

Oscar crossed himself and fell to cleaning his rifle. 

CHAPTER XIX

CAPTAIN CLAIBORNE ON DUTY

When he came where the trees were thin, The moon sat waiting there to see;On her worn palm she laid her chin, And laughed awhile in sober gleeTo think how strong this knight had been. 

--William Vaughn Moody. 

In some mystification Captain Richard Claiborne packed a suit-case in hisquarters at Fort Myer. Being a soldier, he obeyed orders; but beinghuman, he was also possessed of a degree of curiosity. He did not knowjust the series of incidents and conferences that preceded his summons toWashington, but they may be summarized thus:

Baron von Marhof was a cautious man. When the young gentlemen of hislegation spoke to him in awed whispers of a cigarette case bearing anextraordinary device that had been seen in Washington he laughed themaway; then, possessing a curious and thorough mind, he read all the pressclippings relating to the false Baron von Kissel, and studied theheraldic emblems of the Schomburgs. As he pondered, he regretted thedeath of his eminent brother-in-law, Count Ferdinand von Stroebel, whowas not a man to stumble over so negligible a trifle as a cigarette case. But Von Marhof himself was not without resources. He told the gentlemenof his suite that he had satisfied himself that there was nothing in theArmitage mystery; then he cabled Vienna discreetly for a few days, andfinally consulted Hilton Claiborne, the embassy's counsel, at theClaiborne home at Storm Springs. 

They had both gone hurriedly to Washington, where they held a longconference with the Secretary of State. Then the state department calledthe war department by telephone, and quickly down the line to thecommanding officer at Fort Myer went a special assignment for CaptainClaiborne to report to the Secretary of State. A great deal of perfectlysound red tape was reduced to minute particles in these manipulations;but Baron von Marhof's business was urgent; it was also of a privateand wholly confidential character. Therefore, he returned to his cottageat Storm Springs, and the Washington papers stated that he was ill andhad gone back to Virginia to take the waters. 

The Claiborne house was the pleasantest place in Storm Valley, and thelibrary a comfortable place for a conference. Dick Claiborne caught thegravity of the older men as they unfolded to him the task for whichthey had asked his services. The Baron stated the case in these words:

"You know and have talked with this man Armitage; you saw the device onthe cigarette case; and asked an explanation, which he refused; and youknow also Chauvenet, whom we suspect of complicity with the conspiratorsat home. Armitage is not the false Baron von Kissel--we have establishedthat from Senator Sanderson beyond question. But Sanderson's knowledge ofthe man is of comparatively recent date--going back about five years tothe time Armitage purchased his Montana ranch. Whoever Armitage may be, he pays his bills; he conducts himself like a gentleman; he travels atwill, and people who meet him say a good word for him. "

"He is an agreeable man and remarkably well posted in European politics, "said Judge Claiborne. "I talked with him a number of times on the _KingEdward_ and must say that I liked him. "

"Chauvenet evidently knows him; there was undoubtedly something back ofthat little trick at my supper party at the Army and Navy, " said Dick. 

"It might be explained--" began the Baron; then he paused and looked fromfather to son. "Pardon me, but they both manifest some interest in MissClaiborne. "

"We met them abroad, " said Dick; "and they both turned up again inWashington. "

"One of them is here, or has been here in the valley--why not the other?"asked Judge Claiborne. 

"But, of course, Shirley knows nothing of Armitage's whereabouts, " Dickprotested. 

"Certainly not, " declared his father. 

"How did you make Armitage's acquaintance?" asked the Ambassador. "Someone must have been responsible for introducing him--if you can remember. "

Dick laughed. 

"It was in the Monte Rosa, at Geneva. Shirley and I had been chaffingeach other about the persistence with which Armitage seemed to follow us. He was taking _déjeuner_ at the same hour, and he passed us going out. Old Arthur Singleton--the ubiquitous--was talking to us, and he nailedArmitage with his customary zeal and introduced him to us in quite theusual American fashion. Later I asked Singleton who he was and he knewnothing about him. Then Armitage turned up on the steamer, where he madehimself most agreeable. Next, Senator Sanderson vouched for him as one ofhis Montana constituents. You know the rest of the story. I swallowed himwhole; he called at our house on several occasions, and came to the post, and I asked him to my supper for the Spanish attaché. "

"And now, Dick, we want you to find him and get him into a room withourselves, where we can ask him some questions, " declared JudgeClaiborne. 

They discussed the matter in detail. It was agreed that Dick shouldremain at the Springs for a few days to watch Chauvenet; then, if he gotno clue to Armitage's whereabouts, he was to go to Montana, to see ifanything could be learned there. 

"We must find him--there must be no mistake about it, " said theAmbassador to Judge Claiborne, when they were alone. "They are almostpanic-stricken in Vienna. What with the match burning close to the powderin Hungary and clever heads plotting in Vienna this American end of thegame has dangerous possibilities. "

"And when we have young Armitage--" the Judge began. 

"Then we shall know the truth. "

"But suppose--suppose, " and Judge Claiborne glanced at the door, "suppose Charles Louis, Emperor-king of Austria-Hungary, shoulddie--to-night--to-morrow--"

"We will assume nothing of the kind!" ejaculated the Ambassador sharply. "It is impossible. " Then to Captain Claiborne: "You must pardon me if Ido not explain further. I wish to find Armitage; it is of the greatestimportance. It would not aid you if I told you why I must see and talkwith him. "

And as though to escape from the thing of which his counsel had hinted, Baron von Marhof took his departure at once. 

Shirley met her brother on the veranda. His arrival had been unheraldedand she was frankly astonished to see him. 

"Well, Captain Claiborne, you are a man of mystery. You will undoubtedlybe court-martialed for deserting--and after a long leave, too. "

"I am on duty. Don't forget that you are the daughter of a diplomat. "

"Humph! It doesn't follow, necessarily, that I should be stupid!"

"You couldn't be that, Shirley, dear. "

"Thank you, Captain. "

They discussed family matters for a few minutes; then she said, withelaborate irrelevance:

"Well, we must hope that your appearance will cause no battles to befought in our garden. There was enough fighting about here in old times. "

"Take heart, little sister, I shall protect you. Oh, it's rather decentof Armitage to have kept away from you, Shirley, after all that fussabout the bogus baron. "

"Which he wasn't--"

"Well, Sanderson says he couldn't have been, and the rogues' gallerypictures don't resemble our friend at all. "

"Ugh; don't speak of it!" and Shirley shrugged her shoulders. Shesuffered her eyes to climb the slopes of the far hills. Then she lookedsteadily at her brother and laughed. 

"What do you and father and Baron von Marhof want with Mr. JohnArmitage?" she asked. 

"Guess again!" exclaimed Dick hurriedly. "Has that been the undercurrentof your conversation? As I may have said before in this connection, youdisappoint me, Shirley. You seem unable to forget that fellow. "

He paused, grew very serious, and bent forward in his wicker chair. 

"Have you seen John Armitage since I saw him?"

"Impertinent! How dare you?"

"But Shirley, the question is fair!"

"Is it, Richard?"

"And I want you to answer me. "

"That's different. "

He rose and took several steps toward her. She stood against the railingwith her hands behind her back. 

"Shirley, you are the finest girl in the world, but you wouldn't do_this_--"

"This what, Dick?"

"You know what I mean. I ask you again--have you or have you not seenArmitage since you came to the Springs?"

He spoke impatiently, his eyes upon hers. A wave of color swept her face, and then her anger passed and she was her usual good-natured self. 

"Baron von Marhof is a charming old gentleman, isn't he?"

"He's a regular old brick, " declared Dick solemnly. 

"It's a great privilege for a young man like you to know him, Dick, andto have private talks with him and the governor--about subjects of deepimportance. The governor is a good deal of a man himself. "

"I am proud to be his son, " declared Dick, meeting Shirley's eyesunflinchingly. 

Shirley was silent for a moment, while Dick whistled a few bars from thelatest waltz. 

"A captain--a mere captain of the line--is not often plucked out of hispost when in good health and standing--after a long leave for foreigntravel--and sent away to visit his parents--and help entertain adistinguished Ambassador. "

"Thanks for the 'mere captain, ' dearest. You needn't rub it in. "

"I wouldn't. But you are fair game--for your sister only! And you'rebetter known than you were before that little supper for the Spanishattaché. It rather directed attention to you, didn't it, Dick?"

Dick colored. 

"It certainly did. "

"And if you should meet Monsieur Chauvenet, who caused the trouble--"

"I have every intention of meeting him!"

"Oh!"

"Of course, I shall meet him--some time, somewhere. He's at the Springs, isn't he?"

"Am I a hotel register that I should know? I haven't seen him for severaldays. "

"What I should like to see, " said Dick, "is a meeting between Armitageand Chauvenet. That would really be entertaining. No doubt Chauvenetcould whip your mysterious suitor. "

He looked away, with an air of unconcern, at the deepening shadows on themountains. 

"Dear Dick, I am quite sure that if you have been chosen out of all theUnited States army to find Mr. John Armitage, you will succeed withoutany help from me. "

"That doesn't answer my question. You don't know what you are doing. Whatif father knew that you were seeing this adventurer--"

"Oh, of course, if you should tell father! I haven't said that I had seenMr. Armitage; and you haven't exactly told me that you have a warrant forhis arrest; so we are quits, Captain. You had better look in at thehotel dance to-night. There are girls there and to spare. "

"When I find Mr. Armitage--"

"You seem hopeful, Captain. He may be on the high seas. "

"I shall find him there--or here!"

"Good luck to you, Captain!"

There was the least flash of antagonism in the glance that passed betweenthem, and Captain Claiborne clapped his hands together impatiently andwent into the house. 

CHAPTER XX

THE FIRST RIDE TOGETHER

My mistress bent that brow of hers;Those deep dark eyes where pride demursWhen pity would be softening through, Fixed me a breathing-while or two With life or death in the balance: right!The blood replenished me again;My last thought was at least not vain:I and my mistress, side by sideShall be together, breathe and ride, So, one day more am I deified. Who knows but the world may end to-night?

--R. Browning. 

"We shall be leaving soon, " said Armitage, half to himself and partly toOscar. "It is not safe to wait much longer. "

He tossed a copy of the _Neue Freie Presse_ on the table. Oscar had beendown to the Springs to explore, and brought back news, gained from thestablemen at the hotel, that Chauvenet had left the hotel, presumably forWashington. It was now Wednesday in the third week in April. 

"Oscar, you were a clever boy and knew more than you were told. You haveasked me no questions. There may be an ugly row before I get out of thesehills. I should not think hard of you if you preferred to leave. "

"I enlisted for the campaign--yes?--I shall wait until I am discharged. "And the little man buttoned his coat. 

"Thank you, Oscar. In a few days more we shall probably be through withthis business. There's another man coming to get into the game--hereached Washington yesterday, and we shall doubtless hear of him shortly. Very likely they are both in the hills tonight. And, Oscar, listencarefully to what I say. "

The soldier drew nearer to Armitage, who sat swinging his legs on thetable in the bungalow. 

"If I should die unshriven during the next week, here's a key that opensa safety-vault box at the Bronx Loan and Trust Company, in New York. Incase I am disabled, go at once with the key to Baron von Marhof, Ambassador of Austria-Hungary, and tell him--tell him--"

He had paused for a moment as though pondering his words with care; thenhe laughed and went on. 

"--tell him, Oscar, that there's a message in that safety box from agentleman who might have been King. "

Oscar stared at Armitage blankly. 

"That is the truth, Sergeant. The message once in the good Baron's handswill undoubtedly give him a severe shock. You will do well to go to bed. I shall take a walk before I turn in. "

"You should not go out alone--"

"Don't trouble about me; I shan't go far. I think we are safe until twogentlemen have met in Washington, discussed their affairs, and come downinto the mountains again. The large brute we caught the other night isundoubtedly on watch near by; but he is harmless. Only a few days moreand we shall perform a real service in the world, Sergeant, --I feel it inmy bones. "

He took his hat from a bench by the door and went out upon the veranda. The moon had already slipped down behind the mountains, but the starstrooped brightly across the heavens. He drank deep breaths of the coolair of the mountain night, and felt the dark wooing him with its calm andpeace. He returned for his cloak and walked into the wood. He followedthe road to the gate, and then turned toward the Port of Missing Men. Hehad formed quite definite plans of what he should do in certainemergencies, and he felt a new strength in his confidence that he shouldsucceed in the business that had brought him into the hills. 

At the abandoned bridge he threw himself down and gazed off through anarrow cut that afforded a glimpse of the Springs, where the electriclights gleamed as one lamp. Shirley Claiborne was there in the valley andhe smiled with the thought of her; for soon--perhaps in a few hours--hewould be free to go to her, his work done; and no mystery or dangeroustask would henceforth lie between them. 

He saw march before him across the night great hosts of armed men, singing hymns of war; and again he looked upon cities besieged; stillagain upon armies in long alignment waiting for the word that would bringthe final shock of battle. The faint roar of water far below added anunder-note of reality to his dream; and still he saw, as upon a tapestryheld in his hand, the struggles of kingdoms, the rise and fall ofempires. Upon the wide seas smoke floated from the guns of giant shipsthat strove mightily in battle. He was thrilled by drum-beats and the cryof trumpets. Then his mood changed and the mountains and calm starsspoke an heroic language that was of newer and nobler things; and heshook his head impatiently and gathered his cloak about him and rose. 

"God said, 'I am tired of kings, '" he muttered. "But I shall keep mypledge; I shall do Austria a service, " he said; and then laughed a littleto himself. "To think that it may be for me to say!" And with this hewalked quite to the brink of the chasm and laid his hand upon the ironcable from which swung the bridge. 

"I shall soon be free, " he said with a deep sigh; and looked across thestarlighted hills. 

Then the cable under his hand vibrated slightly; at first he thought itthe night wind stealing through the vale and swaying the bridge above thesheer depth. But still he felt the tingle of the iron rope in his clasp, and his hold tightened and he bent forward to listen. The whole bridgenow audibly shook with the pulsation of a step--a soft, furtive step, asof one cautiously groping a way over the unsubstantial flooring. Thenthrough the starlight he distinguished a woman's figure, and drew back. Aloose plank in the bridge floor rattled, and as she passed it freeditself and he heard it strike the rocks faintly far below; but the figurestole swiftly on, and he bent forward with a cry of warning on his lips, and snatched away the light barricade that had been nailed across theopening. 

When he looked up, his words of rebuke, that had waited only for thewoman's security, died on his lips. 

"Shirley!" he cried; and put forth both hands and lifted her to firmground. 

A little sigh of relief broke from her. The bridge still swayed from herweight; and the cables hummed like the wires of a harp; near at hand thewaterfall tumbled down through the mystical starlight. 

"I did not know that dreams really came true, " he said, with an awe inhis voice that the passing fear had left behind. 

She began abruptly, not heeding his words. 

"You must go away--at once--I came to tell you that you can not stayhere. "

"But it is unfair to accept any warning from you! You are too generous, too kind, "--he began. 

"It is not generosity or kindness, but this danger that follows you--itis an evil thing and it must not find you here. It is impossible thatsuch a thing can be in America. But you must go--you must seek the law'said--"

"How do you know I dare--"

"I don't know--that you dare!"

"I know that you have a great heart and that I love you, " he said. 

She turned quickly toward the bridge as though to retrace her steps. 

"I can't be paid for a slight, a very slight service by fair words, Mr. Armitage. If you knew why I came--"

"If I dared think or believe or hope--"

"You will dare nothing of the kind, Mr. Armitage!" she replied; "but Iwill tell you, that I came out of ordinary Christian humanity. The ideaof friends, of even slight acquaintances, being assassinated in theseVirginia hills does not please me. "

"How do you classify me, please--with friends or acquaintances?"

He laughed; then the gravity of what she was doing changed his tone. 

"I am John Armitage. That is all you know, and yet you hazard your lifeto warn me that I am in danger?"

"If you called yourself John Smith I should do exactly the same thing. Itmakes not the slightest difference to me who or what you are. "

"You are explicit!" he laughed. "I don't hesitate to tell you that Ivalue your life much higher than you do. "

"That is quite unnecessary. It may amuse you to know that, as I am aperson of little curiosity, I am not the least concerned in the solutionof--of--what might be called the Armitage riddle. "

"Oh; I'm a riddle, am I?"

"Not to me, I assure you! You are only the object of some one's enmity, and there's something about murder that is--that isn't exactly nice! It'spositively unesthetic. "

She had begun seriously, but laughed at the absurdity of her last words. 

"You are amazingly impersonal. You would save a man's life without caringin the least what manner of man he may be. "

"You put it rather flatly, but that's about the truth of the matter. Doyou know, I am almost afraid--"

"Not of me, I hope--"

"Certainly not. But it has occurred to me that you may have the conceitof your own mystery, that you may take rather too much pleasure inmystifying people as to your identity. "

"That is unkind, --that is unkind, " and he spoke without resentment, butsoftly, with a falling cadence. 

He suddenly threw down the hat he had held in his hand, and extended hisarms toward her. 

"You are not unkind or unjust. You have a right to know who I am and whatI am doing here. It seems an impertinence to thrust my affairs upon you;but if you will listen I should like to tell you--it will take but amoment--why and what--"

"Please do not! As I told you, I have no curiosity in the matter. I can'tallow you to tell me; I really don't want to know!"

"I am willing that every one should know--to-morrow--or the dayafter--not later. "

She lifted her head, as though with the earnestness of some new thought. 

"The day after may be too late. Whatever it is that you have done--"

"I have done nothing to be ashamed of, --I swear I have not!"

"Whatever it is, --and I don't care what it is, "--she said deliberately, "--it is something quite serious, Mr. Armitage. My brother--"

She hesitated for a moment, then spoke rapidly. 

"My brother has been detailed to help in the search for you. He is atStorm Springs now. "

"But _he_ doesn't understand--"

"My brother is a soldier and it is not necessary for him to understand. "

"And you have done this--you have come to warn me--"

"It does look pretty bad, " she said, changing her tone and laughing alittle. "But my brother and I--we always had very different ideas aboutyou, Mr. Armitage. We hold briefs for different sides of the case. "

"Oh, I'm a case, am I?" and he caught gladly at the suggestion oflightness in her tone. "But I'd really like to know what he has to dowith my affairs. "

"Then you will have to ask him. "

"To be sure. But the government can hardly have assigned CaptainClaiborne to special duty at Monsieur Chauvenet's request. I swear to youthat I'm as much in the dark as you are. "

"I'm quite sure an officer of the line would not be taken from his dutiesand sent into the country on any frivolous errand. But perhaps anAmbassador from a great power made the request, --perhaps, for example, it was Baron von Marhof. "

"Good Lord!"

Armitage laughed aloud. 

"I beg your pardon! I really beg your pardon! But is the Ambassadorlooking for me?"

"I don't know, Mr. Armitage. You forget that I'm only a traitor and not aspy. "

"You are the noblest woman in the world, " he said boldly, and his heartleaped in him and he spoke on with a fierce haste. "You have madesacrifices for me that no woman ever made before for a man--for a man shedid not know! And my life--whatever it is worth, every hour and second ofit, I lay down before you, and it is yours to keep or throw away. Ifollowed you half-way round the world and I shall follow you again and aslong as I live. And to-morrow--or the day after--I shall justify thesegreat kindnesses--this generous confidence; but to-night I have a work todo!"

As they stood on the verge of the defile, by the bridge that swung outfrom the cliff like a fairy structure, they heard far and faint thewhistle and low rumble of the night train south-bound from Washington;and to both of them the sound urged the very real and practical worldfrom which for a little time they had stolen away. 

"I must go back, " said Shirley, and turned to the bridge and put her handon its slight iron frame; but he seized her wrists and held them tight. 

"You have risked much for me, but you shall not risk your life again, inmy cause. You can not venture cross that bridge again. "

She yielded without further parley and he dropped her wrists at once. 

"Please say no more. You must not make me sorry I came. I must go, --Ishould have gone back instantly. "

"But not across that spider's web. You must go by the long road. I willgive you a horse and ride with you into the valley. "

"It is much nearer by the bridge, --and I have my horse over there. "

"We shall get the horse without trouble, " he said, and she walked besidehim through the starlighted wood. As they crossed the open tract shesaid:

"This is the Port of Missing Men. "

"Yes, here the lost legion made its last stand. There lie the graves ofsome of them. It's a pretty story; I hope some day to know more of itfrom some such authority as yourself. "

"I used to ride here on my pony when I was a little girl, and dream aboutthe gray soldiers who would not surrender. It was as beautiful as an oldballad. I'll wait here. Fetch the horse, " she said, "and hurry, please. "

"If there are explanations to make, " he began, looking at her gravely. 

"I am not a person who makes explanations, Mr. Armitage. You may meet meat the gate. "

As he ran toward the house he met Oscar, who had become alarmed at hisabsence and was setting forth in search of him. 

"Come; saddle both the horses, Oscar, " Armitage commanded. 

They went together to the barn and quickly brought out the horses. 

"You are not to come with me, Oscar. "

"A captain does not go alone; it should be the sergeant who issent--yes?"

"It is not an affair of war, Oscar, but quite another matter. There is asaddled horse hitched to the other side of our abandoned bridge. Get itand ride it to Judge Claiborne's stables; and ask and answer noquestions. "

A moment later he was riding toward the gate, the led-horse following. 

He flung himself down, adjusting the stirrups and gave her a hand intothe saddle. They turned silently into the mountain road. 

"The bridge would have been simpler and quicker, " said Shirley; "as itis, I shall be late to the ball. "

"I am contrite enough; but you don't make explanations. "

"No; I don't explain; and you are to come back as soon as we strike thevalley. I always send gentlemen back at that point, " she laughed, andwent ahead of him into the narrow road. She guided the strange horse withthe ease of long practice, skilfully testing his paces, and when theycame to a stretch of smooth road sent him flying at a gallop over thetrail. He had given her his own horse, a hunter of famous strain, and sheat once defined and maintained a distance between them that made talkimpossible. 

Her short covert riding-coat, buttoned close, marked clearly in thestarlight her erect figure; light wisps of loosened hair broke free underher soft felt hat, and when she turned her head the wind caught the brimand pressed it back from her face, giving a new charm to her profile. 

He called after her once or twice at the start, but she did not pause orreply; and he could not know what mood possessed her; or that once inflight, in the security the horse gave her, she was for the first timeafraid of him. He had declared his love for her, and had offered to breakdown the veil of mystery that made him a strange and perplexing figure. His affairs, whatever their nature, were now at a crisis, he had said;quite possibly she should never see him again after this ride. As shewaited at the gate she had known a moment of contrition and doubt as towhat she had done. It was not fair to her brother thus to give away hissecret to the enemy; but as the horse flew down the rough road herblood leaped with the sense of adventure, and her pulse sang with the joyof flight. Her thoughts were free, wild things; and she exulted in thegreat starry vault and the cool heights over which she rode. Who was JohnArmitage? She did not know or care, now that she had performed for himher last service. Quite likely he would fade away on the morrow like amountain shadow before the sun; and the song in her heart to-night wasnot love or anything akin to it, but only the joy of living. 

Where the road grew difficult as it dipped sharply down into the valleyshe suffered him perforce to ride beside her. 

"You ride wonderfully, " he said. 

"The horse is a joy. He's a Pendragon--I know them in the dark. He musthave come from this valley somewhere. We own some of his cousins, I'msure. "

"You are quite right. He's a Virginia horse. You are incomparable--noother woman alive could have kept that pace. It's a brave woman who isn'ta slave to her hair-pins--I don't believe you spilled one. "

She drew rein at the cross-roads. 

"We part here. How shall I return Bucephalus?"

"Let me go to your own gate, please!"

"Not at all!" she said with decision. 

"Then Oscar will pick him up. If you don't see him, turn the horse loose. But my thanks--for oh, so many things!" he pleaded. 

"To-morrow--or the day after--or never!"

She laughed and put out her hand; and when he tried to detain her shespoke to the horse and flashed away toward home. He listened, marking herflight until the shadows of the valley stole sound and sight from him;then he turned back into the hills. 

Near her father's estate Shirley came upon a man who saluted in themanner of a soldier. 

It was Oscar, who had crossed the bridge and ridden down by the nearerroad. 

"It is my captain's horse--yes?" he said, as the slim, graceful animalwhinnied and pawed the ground. "I found a horse at the broken bridge andtook it to your stable--yes?"

A moment later Shirley walked rapidly through the garden to the verandaof her father's house, where her brother Dick paced back and forthimpatiently. 

"Where have you been, Shirley?"

"Walking. "

"But you went for a ride--the stable-men told me. "

"I believe that is true, Captain. "

"And your horse was brought home half an hour ago by a strange fellow whosaluted like a soldier when I spoke to him, but refused to understand myEnglish. "

"Well, they do say English isn't very well taught at West Point, Captain, " she replied, pulling off her gloves. "You oughtn't to blame thepolite stranger for his courtesy. "

"I believe you have been up to some mischief, Shirley. If you are seeingthat man Armitage--"

"Captain!"

"Bah! What are you going to do now?"

"I'm going to the ball with you as soon as I can change my gown. Isuppose father and mother have gone. "

"They have--for which you should be grateful!"

Captain Claiborne lighted a cigar and waited. 

CHAPTER XXI

THE COMEDY OF A SHEEPFOLD

A glance, a word--and joy or pain Befalls; what was no more shall be. How slight the links are in the chain That binds us to our destiny!

--T. B. Aldrich. 

Oscar's eye, roaming the landscape as he left Shirley Claiborne andstarted for the bungalow, swept the upland Claiborne acres and restedupon a moving shadow. He drew rein under a clump of wild cherry-trees atthe roadside and waited. Several hundred yards away lay the Claibornesheepfold, with a broad pasture rising beyond. A shadow is not a thing tobe ignored by a man trained in the niceties of scouting. Oscar, satisfying himself that substance lay behind the shadow, dismounted andtied his horse. Then he bent low over the stone wall and watched. 

"It is the big fellow--yes? He is a stealer of sheep, as I might haveknown. "

Zmai was only a dim figure against the dark meadow, which he was slowlycrossing from the side farthest from the Claiborne house. He stoppedseveral times as though uncertain of his whereabouts, and then clamberedover a stone wall that formed one side of the sheepfold, passed it andstrode on toward Oscar and the road. 

"It is mischief that brings him from the hills--yes?" Oscar reflected, glancing up and down the highway. Faintly--very softly through the nighthe heard the orchestra at the hotel, playing for the dance. The littlesoldier unbuttoned his coat, drew the revolver from his belt, and thrustit into his coat pocket. Zmai was drawing nearer, advancing rapidly, nowthat he had gained his bearings. At the wall Oscar rose suddenly andgreeted him in mockingly-courteous tones:

"Good evening, my friend; it's a fine evening for a walk. "

Zmai drew back and growled. 

"Let me pass, " he said in his difficult German. 

"It is a long wall; there should be no difficulty in passing. Thiscountry is much freer than Servia--yes?" and Oscar's tone was pleasantlyconversational. 

Zmai put his hand on the wall and prepared to vault. 

"A moment only, comrade. You seem to be in a hurry; it must be a businessthat brings you from the mountains--yes?"

"I have no time for you, " snarled the Servian. "Be gone!" and he shookhimself impatiently and again put his hand on the wall. 

"One should not be in too much haste, comrade;" and Oscar thrust Zmaiback with his finger-tips. 

The man yielded and ran a few steps out of the clump of trees and soughtto escape there. It was clear to Oscar that Zmai was not anxious topenetrate closer to the Claiborne house, whose garden extended quitenear. He met Zmai promptly and again thrust him back. 

"It is a message--yes?" asked Oscar. 

"It is my affair, " blurted the big fellow. "I mean no harm to you. "

"It was you that tried the knife on my body. It is much quieter thanshooting. You have the knife--yes?"

The little soldier whipped out his revolver. 

"In which pocket is the business carried? A letter undoubtedly. They donot trust swine to carry words--Ah!"

Oscar dropped below the wall as Zmai struck at him; when he looked up amoment later the Servian was running back over the meadow toward thesheepfold. Oscar, angry at the ease with which the Servian had evadedhim, leaped the wall and set off after the big fellow. He was quite surethat the man bore a written message, and equally sure that it must be ofimportance to his employer. He clutched his revolver tight, brought uphis elbows for greater ease in running, and sped after Zmai, now a bluron the starlighted sheep pasture. 

The slope was gradual and a pretty feature of the landscape by day; butit afforded a toilsome path for runners. Zmai already realized that hehad blundered in not forcing the wall; he was running uphill, with agroup of sheds, another wall, and a still steeper and rougher fieldbeyond. His bulk told against him; and behind him he heard the quickthump of Oscar's feet on the turf. The starlight grew dimmer throughtracts of white scud; the surface of the pasture was rougher to the feetthan it appeared to the eye. A hound in the Claiborne stable-yard bayedsuddenly and the sound echoed from the surrounding houses and drifted offtoward the sheepfold. Then a noble music rose from the kennels. 

Captain Claiborne, waiting for his sister on the veranda, looked towardthe stables, listening. 

Zmai approached the sheep-sheds rapidly, with still a hundred yards totraverse beyond them before he should reach the pasture wall. His rage atthus being driven by a small man for whom he had great contempt did nothelp his wind or stimulate the flight of his heavy legs, and he saw nowthat he would lessen the narrowing margin between himself and his pursuerif he swerved to the right to clear the sheds. He suddenly slackened hispace, and with a vicious tug settled his wool hat more firmly upon hissmall skull. He went now at a dog trot and Oscar was closing upon himrapidly; then, quite near the sheds, Zmai wheeled about and charged hispursuer headlong. At the moment he turned, Oscar's revolver bit keenlyinto the night. Captain Claiborne, looking toward the slope, saw theflash before the hounds at the stables answered the report. 

At the shot Zmai cried aloud in his curiously small voice and clapped hishands to his head. 

"Stop; I want the letter!" shouted Oscar in German. The man turnedslowly, as though dazed, and, with a hand still clutching his head, half-stumbled and half-ran toward the sheds, with Oscar at his heels. 

Claiborne called to the negro stable-men to quiet the dogs, snatched alantern, and ran away through the pergola to the end of the garden andthence into the pasture beyond. Meanwhile Oscar, thinking Zmai badlyhurt, did not fire again, but flung himself upon the fellow's broadshoulders and down they crashed against the door of the nearest pen. Zmaiswerved and shook himself free while he fiercely cursed his foe. Oscar'shands slipped on the fellow's hot blood that ran from a long crease inthe side of his head. 

As they fell the pen door snapped free, and out into the starry pasturethronged the frightened sheep. 

"The letter--give me the letter!" commanded Oscar, his face close to theServian's. He did not know how badly the man was injured, but he wasanxious to complete his business and be off. Still the sheep camehuddling through the broken door, across the prostrate men, and scamperedaway into the open. Captain Claiborne, running toward the fold with hislantern and not looking for obstacles, stumbled over their bewilderedadvance guard and plunged headlong into the gray fleeces. Meanwhile intothe pockets of his prostrate foe went Oscar's hands with no result. Thenhe remembered the man's gesture in pulling the hat close upon his ears, and off came the hat and with it a blood-stained envelope. The last sheepin the pen trooped out and galloped toward its comrades. 

Oscar, making off with the letter, plunged into the rear guard of thesheep, fell, stumbled to his feet, and confronted Captain Claiborne asthat gentleman, in soiled evening dress, fumbled for his lantern andswore in language unbecoming an officer and a gentleman. 

"Damn the sheep!" roared Claiborne. 

"It is sheep--yes?" and Oscar started to bolt. 

"Halt!"

The authority of the tone rang familiarly in Oscar's ears. He had, afterconsiderable tribulation, learned to stop short when an officer spoke tohim, and the gentleman of the sheepfold stood straight in the starlightand spoke like an officer. 

"What in the devil are you doing here, and who fired that shot?"

Oscar saluted and summoned his best English. 

"It was an accident, sir. "

"Why are you running and why did you fire? Understand you are atrespasser here, and I am going to turn you over to the constable. "

"There was a sheep-stealer--yes? He is yonder by the pens--and we hadsome little fighting; but he is not dead--no?"

At that moment Claiborne's eyes caught sight of a burly figure rising andthreshing about by the broken pen door. 

"That is the sheep-stealer, " said Oscar. "We shall catch him--yes?"

Zmai peered toward them uncertainly for a moment; then turned abruptlyand ran toward the road. Oscar started to cut off his retreat, butClaiborne caught the sergeant by the shoulder and flung him back. 

"One of you at a time! They can turn the hounds on the other rascal. What's that you have there? Give it to me--quick!"

"It's a piece of wool--"

But Claiborne snatched the paper from Oscar's hand, and commanded the manto march ahead of him to the house. So over the meadow and through thepergola they went, across the veranda and into the library. The power ofarmy discipline was upon Oscar; if Claiborne had not been an officer hewould have run for it in the garden. As it was, he was taxing his wits tofind some way out of his predicament. He had not the slightest idea as towhat the paper might be. He had risked his life to secure it, and nowthe crumpled, blood-stained paper had been taken away from him by aperson whom it could not interest in any way whatever. 

He blinked under Claiborne's sharp scrutiny as they faced each other inthe library. 

"You are the man who brought a horse back to our stable an hour ago. "

"Yes, sir. "

"You have been a soldier. "

"In the cavalry, sir. I have my discharge at home. "

"Where do you live?"

"I work as teamster in the coal mines--yes?--they are by Lamar, sir. "

Claiborne studied Oscar's erect figure carefully. 

"Let me see your hands, " he commanded; and Oscar extended his palms. 

"You are lying; you do not work in the coal mines. Your clothes are notthose of a miner; and a discharged soldier doesn't go to digging coal. Stand where you are, and it will be the worse for you if you try tobolt. "

Claiborne turned to the table with the envelope. It was not sealed, andhe took out the plain sheet of notepaper on which was written:

CABLEGRAMWlNKELRIED, VIENNA. Not later than Friday. CHAUVENET. 

Claiborne read and re-read these eight words; then he spoke bluntly toOscar. 

"Where did you get this?"

"From the hat of the sheep-stealer up yonder. "

"Who is he and where did he get it?"

"I don't know, sir. He was of Servia, and they are an ugly race--yes?"

"What were you going to do with the paper?"

Oscar grinned. 

"If I could read it--yes; I might know; but if Austria is in the paper, then it is mischief; and maybe it would be murder; who knows?"

Claiborne looked frowningly from the paper to Oscar's tranquil eyes. 

"Dick!" called Shirley from the hall, and she appeared in the doorway, drawing on her gloves; but paused at seeing Oscar. 

"Shirley, I caught this man in the sheepfold. Did you ever see himbefore?"

"I think not, Dick. "

"It was he that brought your horse home. "

"To be sure it is! I hadn't recognized him. Thank you very much;" and shesmiled at Oscar. 

Dick frowned fiercely and referred again to the paper. 

"Where is Monsieur Chauvenet--have you any idea?"

"If he isn't at the hotel or in Washington, I'm sure I don't know. If weare going to the dance--"

"Plague the dance! I heard a shot in the sheep pasture a bit ago and ranout to find this fellow in a row with another man, who got away. "

"I heard the shot and the dogs from my window. You seem to have been in afuss, too, from the looks of your clothes;" and Shirley sat down andsmoothed her gloves with provoking coolness. 

Dick sent Oscar to the far end of the library with a gesture, and held upthe message for Shirley to read. 

"Don't touch it!" he exclaimed; and when she nodded her head in sign thatshe had read it, he said, speaking earnestly and rapidly:

"I suppose I have no right to hold this message; I must send the man tothe hotel telegraph office with it. But where is Chauvenet? What is hisbusiness in the valley? And what is the link between Vienna and thesehills?"

"Don't you know what _you_ are doing here?" she asked, and he flushed. 

"I know what, but not _why_!" he blurted irritably; "but that's enough!"

"You know that Baron von Marhof wants to find Mr. John Armitage; but youdon't know why. "

"I have my orders and I'm going to find him, if it takes ten years. "

Shirley nodded and clasped her fingers together. Her elbows resting onthe high arms of her chair caused her cloak to flow sweepingly away fromher shoulders. At the end of the room, with his back to the portieres, stood Oscar, immovable. Claiborne reexamined the message, and extended itagain to Shirley. 

"There's no doubt of that being Chauvenet's writing, is there?"

"I think not, Dick. I have had notes from him now and then in that hand. He has taken pains to write this with unusual distinctness. "

The color brightened in her cheeks suddenly as she looked toward Oscar. The curtains behind him swayed, but so did the curtain back of her. AMay-time languor had crept into the heart of April, and all the windowswere open. The blurred murmurs of insects stole into the house. Oscar, half-forgotten by his captor, heard a sound in the window behind him anda hand touched him through the curtain. 

Claiborne crumpled the paper impatiently. 

"Shirley, you are against me! I believe you have seen Armitage here, andI want you to tell me what you know of him. It is not like you to shielda scamp of an adventurer--an unknown, questionable character. He hasfollowed you to this valley and will involve you in his affairs withoutthe slightest compunction, if he can. It's most infamous, outrageous, andwhen I find him I'm going to thrash him within an inch of his life beforeI turn him over to Marhof!"

Shirley laughed for the first time in their interview, and rose andplaced her hands on her brother's shoulders. 

"Do it, Dick! He's undoubtedly a wicked, a terribly wicked and dangerouscharacter. "

"I tell you I'll find him, " he said tensely, putting up his hands tohers, where they rested on his shoulders. She laughed and kissed him, andwhen her hands fell to her side the message was in her gloved fingers. 

"I'll help you, Dick, " she said, buttoning her glove. 

"That's like you, Shirley. "

"If you want to find Mr. Armitage--"

"Of course I want to find him--" His voice rose to a roar. 

"Then turn around; Mr. Armitage is just behind you!"

"Yes; I needed my man for other business, " said Armitage, folding hisarms, "and as you were very much occupied I made free with the rearveranda and changed places with him. "

Claiborne walked slowly toward him, the anger glowing in his face. 

"You are worse than I thought--eavesdropper, housebreaker!"

"Yes; I am both those things, Captain Claiborne. But I am also in a greathurry. What do you want with me?"

"You are a rogue, an impostor--"

"We will grant that, " said Armitage quietly. "Where is your warrant formy arrest?"

"That will be forthcoming fast enough! I want you to understand that Ihave a personal grievance against you. "

"It must wait until day after to-morrow, Captain Claiborne. I will cometo you here or wherever you say on the day after to-morrow. "

Armitage spoke with a deliberate sharp decision that was not the tone ofa rogue or a fugitive. As he spoke he advanced until he faced Claibornein the center of the room. Shirley still stood by the window, holding thesoiled paper in her hand. She had witnessed the change of men at the endof the room; it had touched her humor; it had been a joke on her brother;but she felt that the night had brought a crisis: she could not continueto shield a man of whom she knew nothing save that he was the object of acurious enmity. Her idle prayer that her own land's commonplacesordidness might be obscured by the glamour of Old World romance cameback to her; she had been in touch with an adventure that was certainlyproving fruitful of diversion. The _coup de théâtre_ by which Armitagehad taken the place of his servant had amused her for a moment; but shewas vexed and angry now that he had dared come again to the house. 

"You are under arrest, Mr. Armitage; I must detain you here, " saidClaiborne. 

"In America--in free Virginia--without legal process?" asked Armitage, laughing. 

"You are a housebreaker, that is enough. Shirley, please go!"

"You were not detached from the army to find a housebreaker. But I willmake your work easy for you--day after to-morrow I will present myself toyou wherever you say. But now--that cable message which my man found inyour sheep pasture is of importance. I must trouble you to read it tome. "

"No!" shouted Claiborne. 

Armitage drew a step nearer. 

"You must take my word for it that matters of importance, of far-reachingconsequence, hang upon that message. I must know what it is. "

"You certainly have magnificent cheek! I am going to take that paper toBaron von Marhof at once. "

"Do so!--but _I_ must know first! Baron von Marhof and I are on the sameside in this business, but he doesn't understand it, and it is clear youdon't. Give me the message!"

He spoke commandingly, his voice thrilling with earnestness, and jerkedout his last words with angry impatience. At the same moment he andClaiborne stepped toward each other, with their hands clenched at theirsides. 

"I don't like your tone, Mr. Armitage!"

"I don't like to use that tone, Captain Claiborne. "

Shirley walked quickly to the table and put down the message. Then, goingto the door, she paused as though by an afterthought, and repeated quiteslowly the words:

"Winkelried--Vienna--not later than Friday--Chauvenet. "

"Shirley!" roared Claiborne. 

John Armitage bowed to the already vacant doorway; then bounded into thehall out upon the veranda and ran through the garden to the side gate, where Oscar waited. 

Half an hour later Captain Claiborne, after an interview with Baron vonMarhof, turned his horse toward the hills. 

CHAPTER XXII

THE PRISONER AT THE BUNGALOW

So, exultant of heart, with front toward the bridges of battle, Sat they the whole night long, and the fires that they kindled were many. E'en as the stars in her train, with the moon as she walketh in splendor, Blaze forth bright in the heavens on nights when the welkin is breathless, Nights when the mountain peaks, their jutting cliffs, and the valleys, All are disclosed to the eye, and above them the fathomless etherOpens to star after star, and glad is the heart of the shepherd--Such and so many the fires 'twixt the ships and the streams of the XanthusKept ablaze by the Trojans in front of the darkening city. Over the plains were burning a thousand fires, and beside themEach sat fifty men in the firelight glare; and the horses, Champing their fodder and barley white, and instant for action, Stood by the chariot-side and awaited the glory of morning. 

_The Iliad_: Translation of Prentiss Cummings. 

"In Vienna, Friday!"

"There should be great deeds, my dear Jules;" and Monsieur Durandadjusted the wick of a smoking brass lamp that hung suspended from theceiling of a room of the inn, store and post-office at Lamar. 

"Meanwhile, this being but Wednesday, we have our work to do. "

"Which is not so simple after all, as one studies the situation. Mr. Armitage is here, quite within reach. We suspect him of being a person ofdistinction. He evinced unusual interest in a certain document that wasonce in your own hands--"

"_Our_ own hands, if you would be accurate!"

"You are captious; but granted so, we must get them back. The gentlemanis dwelling in a bungalow on the mountain side, for greater conveniencein watching events and wooing the lady of his heart's desire. We employeda clumsy clown to put him out of the world; but he dies hard, and now wehave got to get rid of him. But if he hasn't the papers on his clothesthen you have this pleasant scheme for kidnapping him, getting him downto your steamer at Baltimore and cruising with him until he is ready tocome to terms. The American air has done much for your imagination, mydear Jules; or possibly the altitude of the hills has over-stimulatedit. "

"You are not the fool you look, my dear Durand. You have actually taken apretty fair grasp of the situation. "

"But the adorable young lady, the fair Mademoiselle Claiborne, --whatbecomes of her in these transactions?"

"That is none of your affair, " replied Chauvenet, frowning. "I am quitecontent with my progress. I have not finished in that matter. "

"Neither, it would seem, has Mr. John Armitage! But I am quite wellsatisfied to leave it to you. In a few days we shall know much more thanwe do now. I should be happier if you were in charge in Vienna. A falsestep there--ugh! I hesitate to think of the wretched mess there wouldbe. "

"Trust Winkelried to do his full duty. You must not forget that the acuteStroebel now sleeps the long sleep and that many masses have already beensaid for the repose of his intrepid soul. "

"The splendor of our undertaking is enough to draw his ghost from thegrave. Ugh! By this time Zmai should have filed our cablegram at theSprings and got your mail at the hotel. I hope you have not misplacedyour confidence in the operator there. Coming back, our giant must passArmitage's house. "

"Trust him to pass it! His encounters with Armitage have not been to hiscredit. "

The two men were dressed in rough clothes, as for an outing, and in spiteof the habitual trifling tone of their talk, they wore a serious air. Durand's eyes danced with excitement and he twisted his mustachenervously. Chauvenet had gone to Washington to meet Durand, to get fromhim news of the progress of the conspiracy in Vienna, and, not least, toberate him for crossing the Atlantic. "I do not require watching, my dearDurand, " he had said. 

"A man in love, dearest Jules, sometimes forgets;" but they had gone intothe Virginia hills amicably and were quartered with the postmaster. Theywaited now for Zmai, whom they had sent to the Springs with a message andto get Chauvenet's mail. Armitage, they had learned, used the Lamartelegraph office and they had decided to carry their business elsewhere. 

While they waited in the bare upper room of the inn for Zmai, the bigServian tramped up the mountain side with an aching head and a heartheavy with dread. The horse he had left tied in a thicket when he plungeddown through the Claiborne place had broken free and run away; so that hemust now trudge back afoot to report to his masters. He had made a messof his errands and nearly lost his life besides. The bullet from Oscar'srevolver had cut a neat furrow in his scalp, which was growing sore andstiff as it ceased bleeding. He would undoubtedly be dealt with harshlyby Chauvenet and Durand, but he knew that the sooner he reported hiscalamities the better; so he stumbled toward Lamar, pausing at times toclasp his small head in his great hands. When he passed the wild tanglethat hid Armitage's bungalow he paused and cursed the two occupants inhis own dialect with a fierce vile tongue. It was near midnight when hereached the tavern and climbed the rickety stairway to the room where thetwo men waited. 

Chauvenet opened the door at his approach, and they cried aloud as thegreat figure appeared before them and the lamplight fell upon his darkblood-smeared face. 

"The letters!" snapped Chauvenet. 

"Is the message safe?" demanded Durand. 

"Lost; lost; they are lost! I lost my way and he nearly killed me, --thelittle soldier, --as I crossed a strange field. "

When they had jerked the truth from Zmai, Chauvenet flung open the doorand bawled through the house for the innkeeper. 

"Horses; saddle our two horses quick--and get another if you have tosteal it, " he screamed. Then he turned into the room to curse Zmai, whileDurand with a towel and water sought to ease the ache in the big fellow'shead and cleanse his face. 

"So that beggarly little servant did it, did he? He stole that paper Ihad given you, did he? What do you imagine I brought you to this countryfor if you are to let two stupid fools play with you as though you were aclown?"

The Servian, on his knees before Durand, suffered the torrent of abusemeekly. He was a scoundrel, hired to do murder; and his vilification byan angered employer did not greatly trouble him, particularly since heunderstood little of Chauvenet's rapid German. 

In half an hour Chauvenet was again in a fury, learning at Lamar that theoperator had gone down the road twenty miles to a dance and would not beback until morning. 

The imperturbable Durand shivered in the night air and prodded Chauvenetwith ironies. 

"We have no time to lose. That message must go tonight. You may be sureMonsieur Armitage will not send it for us. Come, we've got to go down toStorm Springs. "

They rode away in the starlight, leaving the postmaster alarmed andwondering. Chauvenet and Durand were well mounted on horses thatChauvenet had sent into the hills in advance of his own coming. Zmai rodegrim and silent on a clumsy plow-horse, which was the best the publicancould find for him. The knife was not the only weapon he had known inServia; he carried a potato sack across his saddle-bow. Chauvenet andDurand sent him ahead to set the pace with his inferior mount. Theytalked together in low tones as they followed. 

"He is not so big a fool, this Armitage, " remarked Durand. "He is quitedeep, in fact. I wish it were he we are trying to establish on a throne, and not that pitiful scapegrace in Vienna. "

"I gave him his chance down there in the valley and he laughed at me. Itis quite possible that he is not a fool; and quite certain that he is nota coward. "

"Then he would not be a safe king. Our young friend in Vienna is a gooddeal of a fool and altogether a coward. We shall have to provide him witha spine at his coronation. "

"If we fail--" began Chauvenet. 

"You suggest a fruitful but unpleasant topic. If we fail we shall befortunate if we reach the hospitable shores of the Argentine for futureresidence. Paris and Vienna would not know us again. If Winkelriedsucceeds in Vienna and we lose here, where do we arrive?"

"We arrive quite where Mr. Armitage chooses to land us. He is a gentlemanof resources; he has money; he laughs cheerfully at misadventures; he hashad you watched by the shrewdest eyes in Europe, --and you are considereda hard man to keep track of, my dear Durand. And not least important, --hehas to-night snatched away that little cablegram that was the signal toWinkelried to go ahead. He is a very annoying and vexatious person, thisArmitage. Even Zmai, whose knife made him a terror in Servia, seemsunable to cope with him. "

"And the fair daughter of the valley--"

"Pish! We are not discussing the young lady. "

"I can understand how unpleasant the subject must be to you, my dearJules. What do you imagine _she_ knows of Monsieur Armitage? If he isthe man we think he is and a possible heir to a great throne it would beimpossible for her to marry him. "

"His tastes are democratic. In Montana he is quite popular. "

Durand flung away his cigarette and laughed suddenly. 

"Has it occurred to you that this whole affair is decidedly amusing? Herewe are, in one of the free American states, about to turn a card thatwill dethrone a king, if we are lucky. And here is a man we are trying toget out of the way--a man we might make king if he were not a fool! InAmerica! It touches my sense of humor, my dear Jules!"

An exclamation from Zmai arrested them. The Servian jerked up his horseand they were instantly at his side. They had reached a point near thehunting preserve in the main highway. It was about half-past one o'clock, an hour at which Virginia mountain roads are usually free of travelers, and they had been sending their horses along as briskly as the unevenroads and the pace of Zmai's laggard beast permitted. 

The beat of a horse's hoofs could be heard quite distinctly in the roadahead of them. The road tended downward, and the strain of the ascent wasmarked in the approaching animal's walk; in a moment the three men heardthe horse's quick snort of satisfaction as it reached leveler ground;then scenting the other animals, it threw up its head and neighedshrilly. 

In the dusk of starlight Durand saw Zmai dismount and felt the Servian'sbig rough hand touch his in passing the bridle of his horse. 

"Wait!" said the Servian. 

The horse of the unknown paused, neighed again, and refused to gofarther. A man's deep voice encouraged him in low tones. The horses ofChauvenet's party danced about restlessly, responsive to the nervousnessof the strange beast before them. 

"Who goes there?"

The stranger's horse was quiet for an instant and the rider had forcedhim so near that the beast's up-reined head and the erect shoulders ofthe horseman were quite clearly defined. 

"Who goes there?" shouted the rider; while Chauvenet and Durand benttheir eyes toward him, their hands tight on their bridles, and listened, waiting for Zmai. They heard a sudden rush of steps, the impact of hisgiant body as he flung himself upon the shrinking horse; and then a cryof alarm and rage. Chauvenet slipped down and ran forward with the quick, soft glide of a cat and caught the bridle of the stranger's horse. Thehorseman struggled in Zmai's great arms, and his beast plunged wildly. Nowords passed. The rider had kicked his feet out of the stirrups andgripped the horse hard with his legs. His arms were flung up to protecthis head, over which Zmai tried to force the sack. 

"The knife?" bawled the Servian. 

"No!" answered Chauvenet. 

"The devil!" yelled the rider; and dug his spurs into the rearing beast'sflanks. 

Chauvenet held on valiantly with both hands to the horse's head. Once thefrightened beast swung him clear of the ground. A few yards distantDurand sat on his own horse and held the bridles of the others. Hesoothed the restless animals in low tones, the light of his cigaretteshaking oddly in the dark with the movement of his lips. 

The horse ceased to plunge; Zmai held its rider erect with his left armwhile the right drew the sack down over the head and shoulders of theprisoner. 

"Tie him, " said Chauvenet; and Zmai buckled a strap about the man's armsand bound them tight. 

The dust in the bag caused the man inside to cough, but save for the oneexclamation he had not spoken. Chauvenet and Durand conferred in lowtones while Zmai drew out a tether strap and snapped it to the curb-bitof the captive's horse. 

"The fellow takes it pretty coolly, " remarked Durand, lighting a freshcigarette. "What are you going to do with him ?"

"We will take him to his own place--it is near--and coax the papers outof him; then we'll find a precipice and toss him over. It is a simplematter. "

Zmai handed Chauvenet the revolver he had taken from the silent man onthe horse. 

"I am ready, " he reported. 

"Go ahead; we follow;" and they started toward the bungalow, Zmai ridingbeside the captive and holding fast to the led-horse. Where the road wassmooth they sent the horses forward at a smart trot; but the captiveaccepted the gait; he found the stirrups again and sat his saddlestraight. He coughed now and then, but the hemp sack was sufficientlyporous to give him a little air. As they rode off his silent submissioncaused Durand to ask:

"Are you sure of the man, my dear Jules?"

"Undoubtedly. I didn't get a square look at him, but he's a gentleman bythe quality of his clothes. He is the same build; it is not a plow-horse, but a thoroughbred he's riding. The gentlemen of the valley are in theirbeds long ago. "

"Would that we were in ours! The spring nights are cold in these hills!"

"The work is nearly done. The little soldier is yet to reckon with; butwe are three; and Zmai did quite well with the potato sack. "

Chauvenet rode ahead and addressed a few words to Zmai. 

"The little man must be found before we finish. There must be no mistakeabout it. "

They exercised greater caution as they drew nearer the wood thatconcealed the bungalow, and Chauvenet dismounted, opened the gate and seta stone against it to insure a ready egress; then they walked theirhorses up the driveway. 

Admonished by Chauvenet, Durand threw away his cigarette with a sigh. 

"You are convinced this is the wise course, dearest Jules?"

"Be quiet and keep your eyes open. There's the house. "

He halted the party, dismounted and crept forward to the bungalow. Hecircled the veranda, found the blinds open, and peered into the longlounging-room, where a few embers smoldered in the broad fireplace, andan oil lamp shed a faint light. One man they held captive; the other wasnot in sight; Chauvenet's courage rose at the prospect of easy victory. He tried the door, found it unfastened, and with his revolver ready inhis hand, threw it open. Then he walked slowly toward the table, turnedthe wick of the lamp high, and surveyed the room carefully. The doors ofthe rooms that opened from the apartment stood ajar; he followed the wallcautiously, kicked them open, peered into the room where Armitage'sthings were scattered about, and found his iron bed empty. Then he walkedquickly to the veranda and summoned the others. 

"Bring him in!" he said, without taking his eyes from the room. 

A moment later Zmai had lifted the silent rider to the veranda, and flunghim across the threshold. Durand, now aroused, fastened the horses to theveranda rail. 

Chauvenet caught up some candles from the mantel and lighted them. 

"Open the trunks in those rooms and be quick; I will join you in amoment;" and as Durand turned into Armitage's room, Chauvenet peeredagain into the other chambers, called once or twice in a low tone; thenturned to Zmai and the prisoner. 

"Take off the bag, " he commanded. 

Chauvenet studied the lines of the erect, silent figure as Zmai loosenedthe strap, drew off the bag, and stepped back toward the table on whichhe had laid his revolver for easier access. 

"Mr. John Armitage--"

Chauvenet, his revolver half raised, had begun an ironical speech, butthe words died on his lips. The man who stood blinking from the suddenburst of light was not John Armitage, but Captain Claiborne. 

The perspiration on Claiborne's face had made a paste of the dirt fromthe potato sack, which gave him a weird appearance. He grinned broadly, adding a fantastic horror to his visage which caused Zmai to leap backtoward the door. Then Chauvenet cried aloud, a cry of anger, whichbrought Durand into the hall at a jump. Claiborne shrugged his shoulders, shook the blood into his numbed arms; then turned his besmeared facetoward Durand and laughed. He laughed long and loud as the stupefactiondeepened on the faces of the two men. 

The objects which Durand held caused Claiborne to stare, and then helaughed again. Durand had caught up from a hook in Armitage's room ablack cloak, so long that it trailed at length from his arms, its redlining glowing brightly where it lay against the outer black. From thefolds of the cloak a sword, plucked from a trunk, dropped upon the floorwith a gleam of its bright scabbard. In his right hand he held a silverbox of orders, and as his arm fell at the sight of Claiborne, the gayribbons and gleaming pendants flashed to the floor. 

"It is not Armitage; we have made a mistake!" muttered Chauvenet tamely, his eyes falling from Claiborne's face to the cloak, the sword, thetangled heap of ribbons on the floor. 

Durand stepped forward with an oath. 

"Who is the man?" he demanded. 

"It is my friend Captain Claiborne. We owe the gentleman an apology--"Chauvenet began. 

"You put it mildly, " cried Claiborne in English, his back to thefireplace, his arms folded, and the smile gone from his face. "I don'tknow your companions, Monsieur Chauvenet, but you seem inclined to thegentle arts of kidnapping and murder. Really, Monsieur--"

"It is a mistake! It is unpardonable! I can only offer youreparation--anything you ask, " stammered Chauvenet. 

"You are looking for John Armitage, are you?" demanded Claiborne hotly, without heeding Chauvenet's words. "Mr. Armitage is not here; he was inStorm Springs to-night, at my house. He is a brave gentleman, and I warnyou that you will injure him at your peril. You may kill me here orstrangle me or stick a knife into me, if you will be better satisfiedthat way; or you may kill him and hide his body in these hills; but, byGod, there will be no escape for you! The highest powers of my governmentknow that I am here; Baron von Marhof knows that I am here. I have anengagement to breakfast with Baron von Marhof at his house at eighto'clock in the morning, and if I am not there every agency of thegovernment will be put to work to find you, Mr. Jules Chauvenet, andthese other scoundrels who travel with you. "

"You are violent, my dear sir--" began Durand, whose wits were comingback to him much quicker than Chauvenet's. 

"I am not as violent as I shall be if I get a troop of cavalry from PortMyer down here and hunt you like rabbits through the hills. And I adviseyou to cable Winkelried at Vienna that the game is all off!"

Chauvenet suddenly jumped toward the table, the revolver still swingingat arm's length. 

"You know too much!"

"I don't know any more than Armitage, and Baron von Marhof and my father, and the Honorable Secretary of State, to say nothing of the equallyHonorable Secretary of War. "

Claiborne stretched out his arms and rested them along the shelf of themantel, and smiled with a smile which the dirt on his face weirdlyaccented. His hat was gone, his short hair rumpled; he dug the bricks ofthe hearth with the toe of his riding-boot as an emphasis of hiscontentment with the situation. 

"You don't understand the gravity of our labors. The peace of a greatEmpire is at stake in this business. We are engaged on a patrioticmission of great importance. "

It was Durand who spoke. Outside, Zmai held the horses in readiness. 

"You are a fine pair of patriots, I swear, " said Claiborne. "What in thedevil do you want with John Armitage?"

"He is a menace to a great throne--an impostor--a--"

Chauvenet's eyes swept with a swift glance the cloak, the sword, thescattered orders. Claiborne followed the man's gaze, but he lookedquickly toward Durand and Chauvenet, not wishing them to see that thesight of these things puzzled him. 

"Pretty trinkets! But such games as yours, these pretty baubles--are notfor these free hills. "

"_Where is John Armitage_?"

Chauvenet half raised his right arm as he spoke and the steel of hisrevolver flashed. 

Claiborne did not move; he smiled upon them, recrossed his legs, andsettled his back more comfortably against the mantel-shelf. 

"I really forget where he said he would be at this hour. He and his manmay have gone to Washington, or they may have started for Vienna, or theymay be in conference with Baron von Marhof at my father's, or they may bewaiting for you at the gate. The Lord only knows!"

"Come; we waste time, " said Durand in French. "It is a trap. We must notbe caught here!"

"Yes; you'd better go, " said Claiborne, yawning and settling himself in anew pose with his back still to the fireplace. "I don't believe Armitagewill care if I use his bungalow occasionally during my sojourn in thehills; and if you will be so kind as to leave my horse well tied outthere somewhere I believe I'll go to bed. I'm sorry, Mr. Chauvenet, thatI can't just remember who introduced you to me and my family. I owe thatperson a debt of gratitude for bringing so pleasant a scoundrel to mynotice. "

He stepped to the table, his hands in his pockets, and bowed to them. 

"Good night, and clear out, " and he waved his arm in dismissal. 

"Come!" said Durand peremptorily, and as Chauvenet hesitated, Durandseized him by the arm and pulled him toward the door. 

As they mounted and turned to go they saw Claiborne standing at thetable, lighting a cigarette from one of the candles. He walked to theveranda and listened until he was satisfied that they had gone; then wentin and closed the door. He picked up the cloak and sword and restored theinsignia to the silver box. The sword he examined with professionalinterest, running his hand over the embossed scabbard, then drawing thebright blade and trying its balance and weight. 

As he held it thus, heavy steps sounded at the rear of the house, a doorwas flung open and Armitage sprang into the room with Oscar close at hisheels. 

CHAPTER XXIII

THE VERGE OF MORNING

O to mount again where erst I haunted;Where the old red hills are bird-enchanted, And the low green meadows Bright with sward;And when even dies, the million-tinted, And the night has come, and planets glinted, Lo! the valley hollow, Lamp-bestarr'd. 

--R. L. S. 

"I hope you like my things, Captain Claiborne!"

Armitage stood a little in advance, his hand on Oscar's arm to check therush of the little man. 

Claiborne sheathed the sword, placed it on the table and folded his arms. 

"Yes; they are very interesting. "

"And those ribbons and that cloak, --I assure you they are of excellentquality. Oscar, put a blanket on this gentleman's horse. Then make somecoffee and wait. "

As Oscar closed the door, Armitage crossed to the table, flung down hisgauntlets and hat and turned to Claiborne. 

"I didn't expect this of you; I really didn't expect it. Now that youhave found me, what in the devil do you want?"

"I don't know--I'll be _damned_ if I know!" and Claiborne grinned, sothat the grotesque lines of his soiled countenance roused Armitage'sslumbering wrath. 

"You'd better find out damned quick! This is my busy night and if youcan't explain yourself I'm going to tie you hand and foot and drop youdown the well till I finish my work. Speak up! What are you doing on mygrounds, in my house, at this hour of the night, prying into my affairsand rummaging in my trunks?"

"I didn't _come_ here, Armitage; I was brought--with a potato sack overmy head. There's the sack on the floor, and any of its dirt that isn't onmy face must be permanently settled in my lungs. "

"What are you doing up here in the mountains--why are you not at yourstation? The potato-sack story is pretty flimsy. Do better than that andhurry up!"

"Armitage"--as he spoke, Claiborne walked to the table and rested hisfinger-tips on it--"Armitage, you and I have made some mistakes duringour short acquaintance. I will tell you frankly that I have blown hot andcold about you as I never did before with another man in my life. On theship coming over and when I met you in Washington I thought well of you. Then your damned cigarette case shook my confidence in you there at theArmy and Navy Club that night; and now--"

"Damn my cigarette case!" bellowed Armitage, clapping his hand to hispocket to make sure of it. 

"That's what I say! But it was a disagreeable situation, --you must admitthat. "

"It was, indeed!"

"It requires some nerve for a man to tell a circumstantial story likethat to a tableful of gentlemen, about one of the gentlemen!"

"No doubt of it whatever, Mr. Claiborne. "

Armitage unbuttoned his coat, and jerked back the lapels impatiently. 

"And I knew as much about Monsieur Chauvenet as I did about you, or as Ido about you!"

"What you know of him, Mr. Claiborne, is of no consequence. And what youdon't know about me would fill a large volume. How did you get here, andwhat do you propose doing, now that you are here? I am in a hurry andhave no time to waste. If I can't get anything satisfactory out of youwithin two minutes I'm going to chuck you back into the sack. "

"I came up here in the hills to look for you--you--you--! Do youunderstand?" began Claiborne angrily. "And as I was riding along the roadabout two miles from here I ran into three men on horseback. When Istopped to parley with them and find out what they were doing, they creptup on me and grabbed my horse and put that sack over my head. They hadmistaken me for you; and they brought me here, into your house, andpulled the sack off and were decidedly disagreeable at finding they hadmade a mistake. One of them had gone in to ransack your effects and whenthey pulled off the bag and disclosed the wrong hare, he dropped his looton the floor; and then I told them to go to the devil, and I hope they'vedone it! When you came in I was picking up your traps, and I submit thatthe sword is handsome enough to challenge anybody's eye. And there's allthere is of the story, and I don't care a damn whether you believe it ornot. "

Their eyes were fixed upon each other in a gaze of anger and resentment. Suddenly, Armitage's tense figure relaxed; the fierce light in his eyesgave way to a gleam of humor and he laughed long and loud. 

"Your face--your face, Claiborne; it's funny. It's too funny for any use. When your teeth show it's something ghastly. For God's sake go in thereand wash your face!"

He made a light in his own room and plied Claiborne with towels, while hecontinued to break forth occasionally in fresh bursts of laughter. Whenthey went into the hall both men were grave. 

"Claiborne--"

Armitage put out his hand and Claiborne took it in a vigorous clasp. 

"You don't know who I am or what I am; and I haven't got time to tellyou now. It's a long story; and I have much to do, but I swear to you, Claiborne, that my hands are clean; that the game I am playing is noaffair of my own, but a big thing that I have pledged myself to carrythrough. I want you to ride down there in the valley and keep Marhofquiet for a few hours; tell him I know more of what's going on inVienna than he does, and that if he will only sit in a rocking-chairand tell you fairy stories till morning, we can all be happy. Is it abargain--or--must I still hang your head down the well till I getthrough?"

"Marhof may go to the devil! He's a lot more mysterious than even you, Armitage. These fellows that brought me up here to kill me in the beliefthat I was you can not be friends of Marhof's cause. "

"They are not; I assure you they are not! They are blackguards of theblackest dye. "

"I believe you, Armitage. "

"Thank you. Now your horse is at the door--run along like a good fellow. "

Armitage dived into his room, caught up a cartridge belt and reappearedbuckling it on. 

"Oscar!" he yelled, "bring in that coffee--with cups for two. "

He kicked off his boots and drew on light shoes and leggings. 

"Light marching orders for the rough places. Confound that buckle. "

He rose and stamped his feet to settle the shoes. 

"Your horse is at the door; that rascal Oscar will take off the blanketfor you. There's a bottle of fair whisky in the cupboard, if you'd like anip before starting. Bless me! I forgot the coffee! There on the table, Oscar, and never mind the chairs, " he added as Oscar came in with a tinpot and the cups on a piece of plank. 

"I'm taking the rifle, Oscar; and be sure those revolvers are loaded withthe real goods. "

There was a great color in Armitage's face as he strode about preparingto leave. His eyes danced with excitement, and between the sentences thathe jerked out half to himself he whistled a few bars from a comic operathat was making a record run on Broadway. His steps rang out vigorouslyfrom the bare pine floor. 

"Watch the windows, Oscar; you may forgive a general anything but asurprise--isn't that so, Claiborne?--and those fellows must be pretty madby this time. Excuse the coffee service, Claiborne. We always pour thesugar from the paper bag--original package, you understand. And see ifyou can't find Captain Claiborne a hat, Oscar--"

With a tin-cup of steaming coffee in his hand he sat on the tabledangling his legs, his hat on the back of his head, the cartridge beltstrapped about his waist over a brown corduroy hunting-coat. He was in ahigh mood, and chaffed Oscar as to the probability of their breakfastinganother morning. "If we die, Oscar, it shall be in a good cause!"

He threw aside his cup with a clatter, jumped down and caught the swordfrom the table, examined it critically, then sheathed it with a click. 

Claiborne had watched Armitage with a growing impatience; he resented theidea of being thus ignored; then he put his hand roughly on Armitage'sshoulder. 

Armitage, intent with his own affairs, had not looked at Claiborne forseveral minutes, but he glanced at him now as though just recalling aduty. 

"Lord, man! I didn't mean to throw you into the road! There's a clean bedin there that you're welcome to--go in and get some sleep. "

"I'm not going into the valley, " roared Claiborne, "and I'm not going tobed; I'm going with you, damn you!"

"But bless your soul, man, you can't go with me; you are as ignorant as ababe of my affairs, and I'm terribly busy and have no time to talk toyou. Oscar, that coffee scalded me. Claiborne, if only I had time, youknow, but under existing circumstances--"

"I repeat that I'm going with you. I don't know why I'm in this row, andI don't know what it's all about, but I believe what you say about it;and I want you to understand that I can't be put in a bag like a prizepotato without taking a whack at the man who put me there. "

"But if you should get hurt, Claiborne, it would spoil my plans. I nevercould face your family again, " said Armitage earnestly. "Take your horseand go. "

"I'm going back to the valley when you do. "

"Humph! Drink your coffee! Oscar, bring out the rest of the artillery andgive Captain Claiborne his choice. "

He picked up his sword again, flung the blade from the scabbard with aswish, and cut the air with it, humming a few bars of a Germandrinking-song. Then he broke out with:

"I do not think a braver gentleman, More active-valiant or more valiant-young, More daring or more bold, is now aliveTo grace this latter age with noble deeds. For my part, I may speak it to my shame, I have a truant been to chivalry;--

"Lord, Claiborne, you don't know what's ahead of us! It's the greatestthing that ever happened. I never expected anything like this--not on mycheerfulest days. Dearest Jules is out looking for a telegraph office topull off the Austrian end of the rumpus. Well, little good it will dohim! And we'll catch him and Durand and that Servian devil and lock themup here till Marhof decides what to do with him. We're off!"

"All ready, sir;" said Oscar briskly. 

"It's half-past two. They didn't get off their message at Lamar, becausethe office is closed and the operator gone, and they will keep out of thevalley and away from the big inn, because they are rather worried by thistime and not anxious to get too near Marhof. They've probably decided togo to the next station below Lamar to do their telegraphing. Meanwhilethey haven't got me!"

"They had me and didn't want me, " said Claiborne, mounting his own horse. 

"They'll have a good many things they don't want in the next twenty-fourhours. If I hadn't enjoyed this business so much myself we might have hadsome secret service men posted all along the coast to keep a lookoutfor them. But it's been a great old lark. And now to catch them!"

Outside the preserve they paused for an instant. 

"They're not going to venture far from their base, which is that inn andpost-office, where they have been rummaging my mail. I haven't studiedthe hills for nothing, and I know short cuts about here that are not onmaps. They haven't followed the railroad north, because the valleybroadens too much and there are too many people. There's a trail up herethat goes over the ridge and down through a wind gap to a settlementabout five miles south of Lamar. If I'm guessing right, we can cut aroundand get ahead of them and drive them back here to my land. "

"To the Port of Missing Men! It was made for the business, " saidClaiborne. 

"Oscar, patrol the road here, and keep an eye on the bungalow, and if youhear us forcing them down, charge from this side. I'll fire twice when Iget near the Port to warn you; and if you strike them first, give thesame signal. Do be careful, Sergeant, how you shoot. We want prisoners, you understand, not corpses. "

Armitage found a faint trail, and with Claiborne struck off into theforest near the main gate of his own grounds. In less than an hour theyrode out upon a low-wooded ridge and drew up their panting, sweatinghorses--two shadowy videttes against the lustral dome of stars. A keenwind whistled across the ridge and the horses pawed the unstable groundrestlessly. The men jumped down to tighten their saddle-girths, and theyturned up their coat collars before mounting again. 

"Come! We're on the verge of morning, " said Armitage, "and there's notime to lose. "

CHAPTER XXIV

THE ATTACK IN THE ROAD

Cowards and laggards fall back; but alert to the saddle, Straight, grim and abreast, vault our weather-worn galloping legion, With a stirrup-cup each to the one gracious woman that loves him. 

--Louise Imogen Guiney. 

"There's an abandoned lumber camp down here, if I'm not mistaken, and ifwe've made the right turns we ought to be south of Lamar and near therailroad. "

Armitage passed his rein to Claiborne and plunged down the steep road toreconnoiter. 

"It's a strange business, " Claiborne muttered half-aloud. 

The cool air of the ridge sobered him, but he reviewed the events of thenight without regret. Every young officer in the service would envy himthis adventure. At military posts scattered across the continent men whomhe knew well were either abroad on duty, or slept the sleep of peace. Helifted his eyes to the paling stars. Before long bugle and morning gunwould announce the new day at points all along the seaboard. His WestPoint comrades were scattered far, and the fancy seized him that thebugle brought them together every day of their lives as it sounded themorning calls that would soon begin echoing down the coast from KennebecArsenal and Fort Preble in Maine, through Myer and Monroe, to McPherson, in Georgia, and back through Niagara and Wayne to Sheridan, and on toRinggold and Robinson and Crook, zigzagging back and forth over mountainand plain to the Pacific, and thence ringing on to Alaska, and echoingagain from Hawaii to lonely outposts in Asian seas. 

He was so intent with the thought that he hummed reveille, and was aboutto rebuke himself for unsoldierly behavior on duty when Armitage whistledfor him to advance. 

"It's all right; they haven't passed yet. I met a railroad track-walkerdown there and he said he had seen no one between here and Lamar. Nowthey're handicapped by the big country horse they had to take for thatServian devil, and we can push them as hard as we like. We must get thembeyond Lamar before we crowd them; and don't forget that we want to drivethem into my land for the round-up. I'm afraid we're going to have a wetmorning. "

They rode abreast beside the railroad through the narrow gap. A longfreight-train rumbled and rattled by, and a little later they passed acoal shaft, where a begrimed night shift loaded cars under flaringtorches. 

"Their message to Winkelried is still on this side of the Atlantic, " saidArmitage; "but Winkelried is in a strong room by this time, if theexisting powers at Vienna are what they ought to be. I've done my bestto get him there. The message would only help the case against him ifthey sent it. "

Claiborne groaned mockingly. 

"I suppose I'll know what it's all about when I read it in the morningpapers. I like the game well enough, but it might be more amusing to knowwhat the devil I'm fighting for. "

"You enlisted without reading the articles of war, and you've got to takethe consequences. You've done what you set out to do--you've found me;and you're traveling with me over the Virginia mountains to report mycapture to Baron von Marhof. On the way you are going to assist inanother affair that will be equally to your credit; and then if all goeswell with us I'm going to give myself the pleasure of allowing MonsieurChauvenet to tell you exactly who I am. The incident appeals to my senseof humor--I assure you I have one! Of course, if I were not a person ofvery great distinction Chauvenet and his friend Durand would not havecrossed the ocean and brought with them a professional assassin, skilledin the use of smothering and knifing, to do away with me. You are in luckto be alive. We are dangerously near the same size and build--and in thedark--on horseback--"

"That was funny. I knew that if I ran for it they'd plug me for sure, andthat if I waited until they saw their mistake they would he afraid tokill me. Ugh! I still taste the red soil of the Old Dominion. "

"Come, Captain! Let us give the horses a chance to prove their blood. These roads will be paste in a few hours. "

The dawn was breaking sullenly, and out of a gray, low-hanging mist alight rain fell in the soft, monotonous fashion of mountain rain. Much ofthe time it was necessary to maintain single file; and Armitage rodeahead. The fog grew thicker as they advanced; but they did not lessentheir pace, which had now dropped to a steady trot. 

Suddenly, as they swept on beyond Lamar, they heard the beat of hoofs andhalted. 

"Bully for us! We've cut in ahead of them. Can you count them, Claiborne?"

"There are three horses all right enough, and they're forcing the beasts. What's the word?"

"Drive them back! Ready--here we go!" roared Armitage in a voice intendedto be heard. 

They yelled at the top of their voices as they charged, plunging into theadvancing trio after a forty-yard gallop. 

"'Not later than Friday'--back you go!" shouted Armitage, and laughedaloud at the enemy's rout. One of the horses--it seemed from its rider'syells to be Chauvenet's--turned and bolted, and the others followedback the way they had come. 

Soon they dropped their pace to a trot, but the trio continued to flybefore them. 

"They're rattled, " said Claiborne, "and the fog isn't helping them any. "

"We're getting close to my place, " said Armitage; and as he spoke twoshots fired in rapid succession cracked faintly through the fog and theyjerked up their horses. 

"It's Oscar! He's a good way ahead, if I judge the shots right. "

"If he turns them back we ought to hear their horses in a moment, "observed Claiborne. "The fog muffles sounds. The road's pretty level inhere. "

"We must get them out of it and into my territory for safety. We'rewithin a mile of the gate and we ought to be able to crowd them into thatlong open strip where the fences are down. Damn the fog!"

The agreed signal of two shots reached them again, but clearer, likedrum-taps, and was immediately answered by scattering shots. A momentlater, as the two riders moved forward at a walk, a sharp volley rang outquite clearly and they heard shouts and the crack of revolvers again. 

"By George! They're coming--here we go!"

They put their horses to the gallop and rode swiftly through the fog. Thebeat of hoofs was now perfectly audible ahead of them, and they heard, quite distinctly, a single revolver snap twice. 

"Oscar has them on the run--bully for Oscar! They're getting close--thankthe Lord for this level stretch--now howl and let 'er go!"

They went forward with a yell that broke weirdly and chokingly on thegray cloak of fog, their horses' hoofs pounding dully on the earthenroad. The rain had almost ceased, but enough had fallen to soften theground. 

"They're terribly brave or horribly seared, from their speed, " shoutedClaiborne. "Now for it!"

They rose in their stirrups and charged, yelling lustily, riding neck andneck toward the unseen foe, and with their horses at their highest pacethey broke upon the mounted trio that now rode upon them grayly out ofthe mist. 

There was a mad snorting and shrinking of horses. One of the animalsturned and tried to bolt, and his rider, struggling to control him, addedto the confusion. The fog shut them in with each other; and Armitage andClaiborne, having flung back their own horses at the onset, had aninstant's glimpse of Chauvenet trying to swing his horse into the road;of Zmai half-turning, as his horse reared, to listen for the foe behind;and of Durand's impassive white face as he steadied his horse with hisleft hand and leveled a revolver at Armitage with his right. 

With a cry Claiborne put spurs to his horse and drove him forward uponDurand. His hand knocked the leveled revolver flying into the fog. ThenZmai fired twice, and Chauvenet's frightened horse, panic-stricken at theshots, reared, swung round and dashed back the way he had come, andDurand and Zmai followed. 

The three disappeared into the mist, and Armitage and Claiborne shookthemselves together and quieted their horses. 

"That was too close for fun--are you all there?" asked Armitage. 

"Still in it; but Chauvenet's friend won't miss every time. There'smurder in his eye. The big fellow seemed to be trying to shoot his ownhorse. "

"Oh, he's a knife and sack man and clumsy with the gun. "

They moved slowly forward now and Armitage sent his horse across therough ditch at the roadside to get his bearings. The fog seemed at thepoint of breaking, and the mass about them shifted and drifted in thegrowing light. 

"This is my land, sure enough. Lord, man, I wish you'd get out of thisand go home. You see they're an ugly lot and don't use toy pistols. "

"Remember the potato sack! That's my watchword, " laughed Claiborne. 

They rode with their eyes straight ahead, peering through the breaking, floating mist. It was now so clear and light that they could see the woodat either hand, though fifty yards ahead in every direction the fog stilllay like a barricade. 

"I should value a change of raiment, " observed Armitage. "There was anadvantage in armor--your duds might get rusty on a damp excursion, butyour shirt wouldn't stick to your hide. "

"Who cares? Those devils are pretty quiet, and the little sergeant isabout due to bump into them again. "

They had come to a gradual turn in the road at a point where a steep, wooded incline swept up on the left. On the right lay the old huntingpreserve and Armitage's bungalow. As they drew into the curve they hearda revolver crack twice, as before, followed by answering shots and criesand the thump of hoofs. 

"Ohee! Oscar has struck them again. Steady now! Watch your horse!" AndArmitage raised his arm high above his head and fired twice as a warningto Oscar. 

The distance between the contending parties was shorter now than at thefirst meeting, and Armitage and Claiborne bent forward in their saddles, talking softly to their horses, that had danced wildly at Armitage'sshots. 

"Lord! if we can crowd them in here now and back to the Port!"

"There!"

Exclamations died on their lips at the instant. Ahead of them lay thefog, rising and breaking in soft folds, and behind it men yelled andseveral shots snapped spitefully on the heavy air. Then a curious picturedisclosed itself just at the edge of the vapor, as though it were acurtain through which actors in a drama emerged upon a stage. Zmai andChauvenet flashed into view suddenly, and close behind them, Oscar, yelling like mad. He drove his horse between the two men, threw himselfflat as Zmai fired at him, and turned and waved his hat and laughed atthem; then, just before his horse reached Claiborne and Armitage, hechecked its speed abruptly, flung it about and then charged back, stillyelling, upon the amazed foe. 

"He's crazy--he's gone clean out of his head!" muttered Claiborne, restraining his horse with difficulty. "What do you make of it?"

"He's having fun with them. He's just rattling them to warm himselfup--the little beggar. I didn't know it was in him. "

Back went Oscar toward the two horsemen he had passed less than a minutebefore, still yelling, and this time he discharged his revolver withseeming unconcern, for the value of ammunition, and as he again dashedbetween them, and back through the gray curtain, Armitage gave the word, and he and Claiborne swept on at a gallop. 

Durand was out of sight, and Chauvenet turned and looked behind himuneasily; then he spoke sharply to Zmai. Oscar's wild ride back and forthhad demoralized the horses, which were snorting and plunging wildly. AsArmitage and Claiborne advanced Chauvenet spoke again to Zmai and drewhis own revolver. 

"Oh, for a saber now!" growled Claiborne. 

But it was not a moment for speculation or regret. Both sides wereperfectly silent as Claiborne, leading slightly, with Armitage pressingclose at his left, galloped toward the two men who faced them at the graywall of mist. They bore to the left with a view of crowding the twohorsemen off the road and into the preserve, and as they neared them theyheard cries through the mist and rapid hoof-beats, and Durand's horseleaped the ditch at the roadside just before it reached Chauvenet andZmai and ran away through the rough underbrush into the wood, Oscar closebehind and silent now, grimly intent on his business. 

The revolvers of Zmai and Chauvenet cracked together, and they, too, turned their horses into the wood, and away they all went, leaving theroad clear. 

"My horse got it that time!" shouted Claiborne. 

"So did I, " replied Armitage; "but never you mind, old man, we've gotthem cornered now. "

Claiborne glanced at Armitage and saw his right hand, still holding hisrevolver, go to his shoulder. 

"Much damage?"

"It struck a hard place, but I am still fit. "

The blood streamed from the neck of Claiborne's horse, which threw up itshead and snorted in pain, but kept bravely on at the trot in whichArmitage had set the pace. 

"Poor devil! We'll have a reckoning pretty soon, " cried Armitagecheerily. "No kingdom is worth a good horse!"

They advanced at a trot toward the Port. 

"You'll be afoot any minute now, but we're in good shape and on our ownsoil, with those carrion between us and a gap they won't care to dropinto! I'm off for the gate--you wait here, and if Oscar fires the signal, give the answer. "

Armitage galloped off to the right and Claiborne jumped from his horsejust as the wounded animal trembled for a moment, sank to its knees androlled over dead. 

CHAPTER XXV

THE PORT OF MISSING MEN

Fast they come, fast they come; See how they gather!Wide waves the eagle plume, Blended with heather. Cast your plaids, draw your blades, Forward each man set!Pibroch of Donuil Dhu Knell for the onset!

--Sir Walter Scott. 

Claiborne climbed upon a rock to get his bearings, and as he gazed offthrough the wood a bullet sang close to his head and he saw a manslipping away through the underbrush a hundred yards ahead of him. Hethrew up his rifle and fired after the retreating figure, jerked thelever spitefully and waited. In a few minutes Oscar rode alertly out ofthe wood at his left. 

"It was better for us a dead horse than a dead man--yes?" was the littlesergeant's comment. "We shall come back for the saddle and bridle. "

"Humph! Where do you think those men are?"

"Behind some rocks near the edge of the gap. It is a poor position. "

"I'm not sure of that. They'll escape across the old bridge. "

"_Nein_. A sparrow would shake it down. Three men at once--they would notneed our bullets!"

Far away to the right two reports in quick succession gave news ofArmitage. 

"It's the signal that he's got between them and the gate. Swing around tothe left and I will go straight to the big clearing, and meet you. "

"You will have my horse--yes?" Oscar began to dismount. 

"No; I do well enough this way. Forward!--the word is to keep thembetween us and the gap until we can sit on them. "

The mist was fast disappearing and swirling away under a sharp wind, andthe sunlight broke warmly upon the drenched world. Claiborne startedthrough the wet undergrowth at a dog trot. Armitage, he judged, was abouthalf a mile away, and to make their line complete Oscar should traversean equal distance. The soldier blood in Claiborne warmed at the prospectof a definite contest. He grinned as it occurred to him that he had wonthe distinction of having a horse shot under him in an open road fight, almost within sight of the dome of the Capitol. 

The brush grew thinner and the trees fewer, and he dropped down andcrawled presently to the shelter of a boulder, from which he could lookout upon the open and fairly level field known as the Port of MissingMen. There as a boy he had dreamed of battles as he pondered the legendof the Lost Legion. At the far edge of the field was a fringe of stuntedcedars, like an abatis, partly concealing the old barricade where, inthe golden days of their youth, he had played with Shirley at stormingthe fort; and Shirley, in these fierce assaults, had usually tumbled overupon the imaginary enemy ahead of him!

As he looked about he saw Armitage, his horse at a walk, ride slowly outof the wood at his right. Claiborne jumped up and waved his hat and arifle-ball flicked his coat collar as lightly as though an unseen handhad tried to brush a bit of dust from it. As he turned toward themarksman behind the cedars three shots, fired in a volley, hummed abouthim. Then it was very still, with the Sabbath stillness of early morningin the hills, and he heard faintly the mechanical click and snap of therifles of Chauvenet's party as they expelled their exploded cartridgesand refilled their magazines. 

"They're really not so bad--bad luck to them!" he muttered. "I'll be ripefor the little brown men after I get through with this;" and Claibornelaughed a little and watched Armitage's slow advance out into the open. 

The trio behind the barricade had not yet seen the man they had crossedthe sea to kill, as the line of his approach closely paralleled the longirregular wall with its fringe of cedars; but they knew from Claiborne'ssignal that he was there. The men had picketed their horses back of thelittle fort, and Claiborne commended their good generalship and wonderedwhat sort of beings they were to risk so much upon so wild an adventure. 

Armitage rode out farther into the opening, and Claiborne, with his eyeson the barricade, saw a man lean forward through the cedars in an effortto take aim at the horseman. Claiborne drew up his own rifle and blazedaway. Bits of stone spurted into the air below the target's elbow, andthe man dropped back out of sight without firing. 

"I've never been the same since that fever, " growled Claiborne, andsnapped out the shell spitefully, and watched for another chance. 

Being directly in front of the barricade, he was in a position to coverArmitage's advance, and Oscar, meanwhile, had taken his cue from Armitageand ridden slowly into the field from the left. The men behind the cedarsfired now from within the enclosure at both men without exposingthemselves; but their shots flew wild, and the two horsemen rode up toClaiborne, who had emptied his rifle into the cedars and was reloading. 

"They are all together again, are they?" asked Armitage, pausing a fewyards from Claiborne's rock, his eyes upon the barricade. 

"The gentleman with the curly hair--I drove him in. He is a damned poorshot--yes?"

Oscar tightened his belt and waited for orders, while Armitage andClaiborne conferred in quick pointed sentences. 

"Shall we risk a rush or starve them out? I'd like to try hunger onthem, " said Armitage. 

"They'll all sneak off over the bridge to-night if we pen them up. Ifthey all go at once they'll break it down, and we'll lose our quarry. Butyou want to capture them--alive?"

"I certainly do!" Armitage replied, and turned to laugh at Oscar, who hadfired at the barricade from the back of his horse, which was resentingthe indignity by trying to throw his rider. 

The enemy now concentrated a sharp fire upon Armitage, whose horsesnorted and pawed the ground as the balls cut the air and earth. 

"For God's sake, get off that horse, Armitage!" bawled Claiborne, risingupon, the rock. "There's no use in wasting yourself that way. "

"My arm aches and I've got to do something. Let's try storming them justfor fun. It's a cavalry stunt, Claiborne, and you can play being theartillery that's supporting our advance. Fall away there, Oscar, aboutforty yards, and we'll race for it to the wall and over. That barricadeisn't as stiff as it looks from this side--know all about it. There aregreat chunks out of it that can't be seen from this side. "

"Thank me for that, Armitage. I tumbled down a good many yards of it whenI played up here as a kid. Get off that horse, I tell you! You've got ahole in you now! Get down!"

"You make me tired, Claiborne. This beautiful row will all be over in afew minutes. I never intended to waste much time on those fellows when Igot them where I wanted them. "

His left arm hung quite limp at his side and his face was very white. Hehad dropped his rifle in the road at the moment the ball struck hisshoulder, but he still carried his revolver. He nodded to Oscar, and theyboth galloped forward over the open ground, making straight for the cedarcovert. 

Claiborne was instantly up and away between the two riders. Their boldadvance evidently surprised the trio beyond the barricade, who shoutedhurried commands to one another as they distributed themselves along thewall and awaited the onslaught. Then they grew still and lay low out ofsight as the silent riders approached. The hoofs of the onrushing horsesrang now and then on the harsh outcropping rock, and here and therestruck fire. Armitage sat erect and steady in his saddle, his horsespeeding on in great bounds toward the barricade. His lips moved in acurious stiff fashion, as though he were ill, muttering:

"For Austria! For Austria! He bade me do something for the Empire!"

Beyond the cedars the trio held their fire, watching with fascinated eyesthe two riders, every instant drawing closer, and the runner who followedthem. 

"They can't jump this--they'll veer off before they get here, " shoutedChauvenet to his comrades. "Wait till they check their horses for theturn. "

"We are fools. They have got us trapped;" and Durand's hands shook as herestlessly fingered a revolver. The big Servian crouched on his kneesnear by, his finger on the trigger of his rifle. All three were hatlessand unkempt. The wound in Zmai's scalp had broken out afresh, and he hadtwisted a colored handkerchief about it to stay the bleeding. A hundredyards away the waterfall splashed down the defile and its faint murmurreached them. A wild dove rose ahead of Armitage and flew straight beforehim over the barricade. The silence grew tense as the horses gallopednearer; the men behind the cedar-lined wall heard only the hollow thumpof hoofs and Claiborne's voice calling to Armitage and Oscar, to warnthem of his whereabouts. 

But the eyes of the three conspirators were fixed on Armitage; it was hislife they sought; the others did not greatly matter. And so John Armitagerode across the little plain where the Lost Legion had camped for ayear at the end of a great war; and as he rode on the defenders of theboulder barricade saw his white face and noted the useless arm hangingand swaying, and felt, in spite of themselves, the strength of his tallerect figure. 

Chauvenet, watching the silent rider, said aloud, speaking in German, sothat Zmai understood:

"It is in the blood; he is like a king. "

But they could not hear the words that John Armitage kept saying over andover again as he crossed the field:

"He bade me do something for Austria--for Austria!"

"He is brave, but he is a great fool. When he turns his horse we willfire on him, " said Zmai. 

Their eyes were upon Armitage; and in their intentness they failed tonote the increasing pace of Oscar's horse, which was spurting slowlyahead. When they saw that he would first make the sweep which theyassumed to be the contemplated strategy of the charging party, theyleveled their arms at him, believing that he must soon check his horse. But on he rode, bending forward a little, his rifle held across thesaddle in front of him. 

"Take him first, " cried Chauvenet. "Then be ready for Armitage!"

Oscar was now turning his horse, but toward them and across Armitage'spath, with the deliberate purpose of taking the first fire. Before himrose the cedars that concealed the line of wall; and he saw the bluebarrels of the waiting rifles. With a great spurt of speed he cut inahead of Armitage swiftly and neatly; then on, without a break or apause--not heeding Armitage's cries--on and still on, till twenty, thenten feet lay between him and the wall, at a place where the cedarbarrier was thinnest. Then, as his horse crouched and rose, three riflescracked as one. With a great crash the horse struck the wall and tumbled, rearing and plunging, through the tough cedar boughs. An instant later, near the same spot, Armitage, with better luck clearing the wall, wasborne on through the confused line. When he flung himself down and ranback Claiborne had not yet appeared. 

Oscar had crashed through at a point held by Durand, who was struck downby the horse's forefeet. He lay howling with pain, with the hind quartersof the prostrate beast across his legs. Armitage, running back toward thewall, kicked the revolver from his hand and left him. Zmai had started torun as Oscar gained the wall and Chauvenet's curses did not halt theServian when he found Oscar at his heels. 

Chauvenet stood impassively by the wall, his revolver raised and coveringArmitage, who walked slowly and doggedly toward him. The pallor inArmitage's face gave him an unearthly look; he appeared to be tryingto force himself to a pace of which his wavering limbs were incapable. Atthe moment that Claiborne sprang upon the wall behind Chauvenet Armitageswerved and stumbled, then swayed from side to side like a drunken man. His left arm swung limp at his side, and his revolver remained undrawn inhis belt. His gray felt hat was twitched to one side of his head, addinga grotesque touch to the impression of drunkenness, and he was talkingaloud:

"Shoot me, Mr. Chauvenet. Go on and shoot me! I am John Armitage, and Ilive in Montana, where real people are. Go on and shoot! Winkelried's injail and the jig's up and the Empire and the silly King are safe. Go onand shoot, I tell you!"

He had stumbled on until he was within a dozen steps of Chauvenet, wholifted his revolver until it covered Armitage's head. 

"Drop that gun--drop it damned quick!" and Dick Claiborne swung the buttof his rifle high and brought it down with a crash on Chauvenet's head;then Armitage paused and glanced about and laughed. 

It was Claiborne who freed Durand from the dead horse, which had receivedthe shots fired at Oscar the moment he rose at the wall. The fight wasquite knocked out of the conspirator, and he swore under his breath, cursing the unconscious Chauvenet and the missing Zmai and the illfortune of the fight. 

"It's all over but the shouting--what's next?" demanded Claiborne. 

"Tie him up--and tie the other one up, " said Armitage, staring aboutqueerly. "Where the devil is Oscar?"

"He's after the big fellow. You're badly fussed, old man. We've got toget out of this and fix you up. "

"I'm all right. I've got a hole in my shoulder that feels as big and hotas a blast furnace. But we've got them nailed, and it's all right, oldman!"

Durand continued to curse things visible and invisible as he rubbed hisleg, while Claiborne watched him impatiently. 

"If you start to run I'll certainly kill you, Monsieur. "

"We have met, my dear sir, under unfortunate circumstances. You shouldnot take it too much to heart about the potato sack. It was the fault ofmy dear colleagues. Ah, Armitage, you look rather ill, but I trust youwill harbor no harsh feelings. "

Armitage did not look at him; his eyes were upon the prostrate figure ofChauvenet, who seemed to be regaining his wits. He moaned and opened hiseyes. 

"Search him, Claiborne, to make sure. Then get him on his legs and pinionhis arms, and tie the gentlemen together. The bridle on that dead horseis quite the thing. "

"But, Messieurs, " began Durand, who was striving to recover hiscomposure--"this is unnecessary. My friend and I are quite willing togive you every assurance of our peaceable intentions. "

"I don't question it, " laughed Claiborne. 

"But, my dear sir, in America, even in delightful America, the law willprotect the citizens of another country. "

"It will, indeed, " and Claiborne grinned, put his revolver intoArmitage's hand, and proceeded to cut the reins from the dead horse. "InAmerica such amiable scoundrels as you are given the freedom of cities, and little children scatter flowers in their path. You ought to write forthe funny papers, Monsieur. "

"I trust your wounds are not serious, my dear Armitage--"

Armitage, sitting on a boulder, turned his eyes wearily upon Durand, whose wrists Claiborne was knotting together with a strap. The officerspun the man around viciously. 

"You beast, if you address Mr. Armitage again I'll choke you!"

Chauvenet, sitting up and staring dully about, was greeted ironically byDurand:

"Prisoners, my dearest Jules; prisoners, do you understand? Will youplease arrange with dear Armitage to let us go home and be good?"

Claiborne emptied the contents of Durand's pockets upon the ground andtossed a flask to Armitage. 

"We will discuss matters at the bungalow. They always go to the nearestfarm-house to sign the treaty of peace. Let us do everything according tothe best traditions. "

A moment later Oscar ran in from the direction of the gap, to find thework done and the party ready to leave. 

"Where is the Servian?" demanded Armitage. 

The soldier saluted, glanced from Chauvenet to Durand, and from Claiborneto Armitage. 

"He will not come back, " said the sergeant quietly. 

"That is bad, " remarked Armitage. "Take my horse and ride down to StormSprings and tell Baron von Marhof and Judge Claiborne that CaptainClaiborne has found John Armitage, and that he presents his complimentsand wishes them to come to Mr. Armitage's house at once. Tell them thatCaptain Claiborne sent you and that he wants them to come back with youimmediately. "

"But Armitage--not Marhof--for God's sake, not Marhof. " Chauvenetstaggered to his feet and his voice choked as he muttered his appeal. "Not Marhof!"

"We can fix this among ourselves--just wait a little, till we can talkover our affairs. You have quite the wrong impression of us, I assureyou, Messieurs, " protested Durand. 

"That is your misfortune! Thanks for the brandy, Monsieur Durand. I feelquite restored, " said Armitage, rising; and the color swept into his faceand he spoke with quick decision. 

"Oh, Claiborne, will you kindly give me the time?"

Claiborne laughed. It was a laugh of real relief at the change inArmitage's tone. 

"It's a quarter of seven. This little scrap didn't take as much time asyou thought it would. "

Oscar had mounted Armitage's horse and Claiborne stopped him as he rodepast on his way to the road. 

"After you deliver Mr. Armitage's message, get a doctor and tell him tobe in a hurry about getting here. "

"No!" began Armitage. "Good Lord, no! We are not going to advertise thismess. You will spoil it all. I don't propose to be arrested and put injail, and a doctor would blab it all. I tell you, no!"

"Oscar, go to the hotel at the Springs and ask for Doctor Bledsoe. He'san army surgeon on leave. Tell him I want him to bring his tools and cometo me at the bungalow. Now go!"

The conspirators' horses were brought up and Claiborne put Armitage uponthe best of them. 

"Don't treat me as though I were a sick priest! I tell you, I feel bully!If the prisoners will kindly walk ahead of us, we'll graciously ridebehind. Or we might put them both on one horse! Forward!"

Chauvenet and Durand, as they marched ahead of their captors, divided thetime between execrating each other and trying to make terms withArmitage. The thought of being haled before Baron von Marhof gave themgreat concern. 

"Wait a few hours, Armitage--let us sit down and talk it all over. We'renot as black as your imagination paints us!"

"Save your breath! You've had your fun so far, and now I'm going to havemine. You fellows are all right to sit in dark rooms and plot murder andtreason; but you're not made for work in the open. Forward!"

They were a worn company that drew up at the empty bungalow, where thelamp and candles flickered eerily. On the table still lay the sword, thecloak, the silver box, the insignia of noble orders. 

CHAPTER XXVI

"WHO ARE YOU, JOHN ARMITAGE?"

"_Morbleu, Monsieur_, you give me too much majesty, " saidthe Prince. --_The History of Henry Esmond_. 

"These gentlemen doubtless wish to confer--let them sequesterthemselves!" and Armitage waved his hand to the line of emptysleeping-rooms. "I believe Monsieur Durand already knows the wayabout--he may wish to explore my trunks again, " and Armitage bowedto the two men, who, with their wrists tied behind them and a straplinking them together, looked the least bit absurd. 

"Now, Claiborne, that foolish Oscar has a first-aid kit of some sort thathe used on me a couple of weeks ago. Dig it out of his simple cell backthere and we'll clear up this mess in my shoulder. Twice on the sameside, --but I believe they actually cracked a bone this time. "

He lay down on a long bench and Claiborne cut off his coat. 

"I'd like to hold a little private execution for this, " growled theofficer. "A little lower and it would have caught you in the heart. "

"Don't be spiteful! I'm as sound as wheat. We have them down and thevictory is ours. The great fun is to come when the good Baron von Marhofgets here. If I were dying I believe I could hold on for that. "

"You're not going to die, thank God! Just a minute more until I pack thisshoulder with cotton. I can't do anything for that smashed bone, butBledsoe is the best surgeon in the army, and he'll fix you up in ajiffy. "

"That will do now. I must have on a coat when our honored guests arrive, even if we omit one sleeve--yes, I guess we'll have to, though it doesseem a bit affected. Dig out the brandy bottle from the cupboard there inthe corner, and then kindly brush my hair and straighten up the chairs abit. You might even toss a stick on the fire. That potato sack you maycare to keep as a souvenir. "

"Be quiet, now! Remember, you are my prisoner, Mr. Armitage. "

"I am, I am! But I will wager ten courses at Sherry's the Baron will beglad to let me off. "

He laughed softly and began repeating:

"'Why, hear you, my masters: was it for me to kill the heir apparent?Should I turn upon the true prince? Why, thou knowest I am as valiant asHercules; but beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was a coward on instinct. I shall think thebetter of myself and thee during my life; I for a valiant lion, and thoufor a true prince. '"

Claiborne forced him to lie down on the bench, and threw a blanket overhim, and in a moment saw that he slept. In an inner room the voices ofthe prisoners occasionally rose shrilly as they debated their situationand prospects. Claiborne chewed a cigar and watched and waited. Armitagewakened suddenly, sat up and called to Claiborne with a laugh:

"I had a perfectly bully dream, old man. I dreamed that I saw the ensignof Austria-Hungary flying from the flag-staff of this shanty; and byJove, I'll take the hint! We owe it to the distinguished Ambassador whonow approaches to fly his colors over the front door. We ought to have atrumpeter to herald his arrival--but the white and red ensign with thegolden crown--it's in the leather-covered trunk in my room--the one withthe most steamer labels on it--go bring it, Claiborne, and we'll throw itto the free airs of Virginia. And be quick--they ought to be here by thistime!"

He stood in the door and watched Claiborne haul up the flag, and he madea mockery of saluting it as it snapped out in the fresh morning air. 

"The Port of Missing Men! It was designed to be extra-territorial, andthere's no treason in hauling up an alien flag, " and his high spiritsreturned, and he stalked back to the fireplace, chaffing Claiborne andwarning him against ever again fighting under an unknown banner. 

"Here they are, " called Claiborne, and flung open the door as Shirley, her father and Baron von Marhof rode up under the billowing ensign. Dickstepped out to meet them and answer their questions. 

"Mr. Armitage is here. He has been hurt and we have sent for a doctor;but"--and he looked at Shirley. 

"If you will do me the honor to enter--all of you!" and Armitage came outquickly and smiled upon them. 

"We had started off to look for Dick when we met your man, " said Shirley, standing on the steps, rein in hand. 

"What has happened, and how was Armitage injured?" demanded JudgeClaiborne. 

"There was a battle, " replied Dick, grinning, "and Mr. Armitage got inthe way of a bullet. "

Her ride through the keen morning air had flooded Shirley's cheeks withcolor. She wore a dark blue skirt and a mackintosh with the collar turnedup about her neck, and a red scarf at her throat matched the band of hersoft felt hat. She drew off her gauntlets and felt in her pocket for ahandkerchief with which to brush some splashes of mud that had dried onher cheek, and the action was so feminine, and marked so abrupt atransition from the strange business of the night and morning, thatArmitage and Dick laughed and Judge Claiborne turned upon themfrowningly. 

Shirley had been awake much of the night. On returning from the ball atthe inn she found Dick still absent, and when at six o'clock he had notreturned she called her father and they had set off together for thehills, toward which, the stablemen reported, Dick had ridden. They hadmet Oscar just outside the Springs, and had returned to the hotel forBaron von Marhof. Having performed her office as guide and satisfiedherself that Dick was safe, she felt her conscience eased, and could seeno reason why she should not ride home and leave the men to theircouncil. Armitage saw her turn to her horse, whose nose was exploring hermackintosh pockets, and he stepped quickly toward her. 

"You see, Miss Claiborne, your brother is quite safe, but I very muchhope you will not run away. There are some things to be explained whichit is only fair you should hear. "

"Wait, Shirley, and we will all go down together, " said Judge Claibornereluctantly. 

Baron von Marhof, very handsome and distinguished, but mud-splashed, hadtied his horse to a post in the driveway, and stood on the veranda steps, his hat in his hand, staring, a look of bewilderment on his face. Armitage, bareheaded, still in his riding leggings, his trousers splashedwith mud, his left arm sleeveless and supported by a handkerchief swungfrom his neck, shook hands with Judge Claiborne. 

"Baron von Marhof, allow me to present Mr. Armitage, " said Dick, andArmitage walked to the steps and bowed. The Ambassador did not offer hishand. 

"Won't you please come in?" said Armitage, smiling upon them, and whenthey were seated he took his stand by the fireplace, hesitated a moment, as though weighing his words, and began:

"Baron von Marhof, the events that have led to this meeting have beensomewhat more than unusual--they are unique. And complications havearisen which require prompt and wise action. For this reason I am gladthat we shall have the benefit of Judge Claiborne's advice. "

"Judge Claiborne is the counsel of our embassy, " said the Ambassador. Hisgaze was fixed intently on Armitage's face, and he hitched himselfforward in his chair impatiently, grasping his crop nervously across hisknees. 

"You were anxious to find me, Baron, and I may have seemed hard to catch, but I believe we have been working at cross-purposes to serve the sameinterests. "

The Baron nodded. 

"Yes, I dare say, " he remarked dryly. 

"And some other gentlemen, of not quite your own standing, have at thesame time been seeking me. It will give me great pleasure to present oneof them--one, I believe, will be enough. Mr. Claiborne, will you kindlyallow Monsieur Jules Chauvenet to stand in the door for a moment? I wantto ask him a question. "

Shirley, sitting farthest from Armitage, folded her hands upon the longtable and looked toward the door into which her brother vanished. ThenJules Chauvenet stood before them all, and as his eyes met hers for asecond the color rose to his face, and he broke out angrily:

"This is infamous! This is an outrage! Baron von Marhof, as an Austriansubject, I appeal to you for protection from this man!"

"Monsieur, you shall have all the protection Baron von Marhof cares togive you; but first I wish to ask you a question--just one. You followedme to America with the fixed purpose of killing me. You sent a Servianassassin after me--a fellow with a reputation for doing dirty work--andhe tried to stick a knife into me on the deck of the _King Edward_. Ishall not recite my subsequent experiences with him or with you andMonsieur Durand. You announced at Captain Claiborne's table at the Armyand Navy Club in Washington that I was an impostor, and all the time, Monsieur, you have really believed me to be some one--some one inparticular. "

Armitage's eyes glittered and his voice faltered with intensity as heuttered these last words. Then he thrust his hand into his coat pocket, stepped back, and concluded:

"Who am I, Monsieur?"

Chauvenet shifted uneasily from one foot to another under the gaze of thefive people who waited for his answer; then he screamed shrilly:

"You are the devil--an impostor, a liar, a thief!"

Baron von Marhof leaped to his feet and roared at Chauvenet in English:

"Who is this man? Whom do you believe him to be?"

"Answer and be quick about it!" snapped Claiborne. 

"I tell you"--began Chauvenet fiercely. 

"_Who am I_?" asked Armitage again. 

"I don't know who you are--"

"You do not! You certainly do not!" laughed Armitage; "but whom have youbelieved me to be, Monsieur?"

"I thought--"

"Yes; you thought--"

"I thought--there seemed reasons to believe--"

"Yes; and you believe it; go on!"

Chauvenet's eyes blinked for a moment as he considered the difficultiesof his situation. The presence of Baron von Marhof sobered him. Americamight not, after all, be so safe a place from which to conduct an OldWorld conspiracy, and this incident must, if possible, be turned to hisown account. He addressed the Baron in German:

"This man is a designing plotter; he is bent upon mischief and treason;he has contrived an attempt against the noble ruler of our nation--he isa menace to the throne--"

"Who is he?" demanded Marhof impatiently; and his eyes and the eyes ofall fell upon Armitage. 

"I tell you we found him lurking about in Europe, waiting his chance, andwe drove him away--drove him here to watch him. See these things--thatsword--those orders! They belonged to the Archduke Karl. Look at them andsee that it is true! I tell you we have rendered Austria a high service. One death--one death--at Vienna--and this son of a madman would be king!He is Frederick Augustus, the son of the Archduke Karl!"

The room was very still as the last words rang out. The old Ambassador'sgaze clung to Armitage; he stepped nearer, the perspiration breaking outupon his brow, and his lips trembled as he faltered:

"He would be king; he would be king!"

Then Armitage spoke sharply to Claiborne. 

"That will do. The gentleman may retire now. "

As Claiborne thrust Chauvenet out of the room, Armitage turned to thelittle company, smiling. 

"I am not Frederick Augustus, the son of the Archduke Karl, " he saidquietly; "nor did I ever pretend that I was, except to lead those men onin their conspiracy. The cigarette case that caused so much troubleat Mr. Claiborne's supper-party belongs to me. Here it is. "

The old Ambassador snatched it from him eagerly. 

"This device--the falcon poised upon a silver helmet! You have much toexplain, Monsieur. "

"It is the coat-of-arms of the house of Schomburg. The case belonged toFrederick Augustus, Karl's son; and this sword was his; and these ordersand that cloak lying yonder--all were his. They were gifts from hisfather. And believe me, my friends, I came by them honestly. "

The Baron bent over the table and spilled the orders from their silverbox and scanned them eagerly. The colored ribbons, the glittering jewels, held the eyes of all. Many of them were the insignia of rare orders nolonger conferred. There were the crown and pendant cross of theInvincible Knights of Zaringer; the white falcon upon a silver helmet, swung from a ribbon of cloth of gold--the familiar device of the house ofSchomburg, the gold Maltese cross of the Chevaliers of the BlessedSacrament; the crossed swords above an iron crown of the Ancient Legionof Saint Michael and All Angels; and the full-rigged ship pendant fromtriple anchors--the decoration of the rare Spanish order of the Star ofthe Seven Seas. Silence held the company as the Ambassador's fine oldhands touched one after another. It seemed to Shirley that these baublesagain bound the New World, the familiar hills of home, the Virginiashores, to the wallowing caravels of Columbus. 

The Ambassador closed the silver box the better to examine the whitefalcon upon its lid. Then he swung about and confronted Armitage. 

"Where is he, Monsieur?" he asked, his voice sunk to a whisper, his eyessweeping the doors and windows. 

"The Archduke Karl is dead; his son Frederick Augustus, whom theseconspirators have imagined me to be--he, too, is dead. "

"You are quite sure--you are quite sure, Mr. Armitage?"

"I am quite sure. "

"That is not enough! We have a right to ask more than your word!"

"No, it is not enough, " replied Armitage quietly. "Let me make my storybrief. I need not recite the peculiarities of the Archduke--his dislikeof conventional society, his contempt for sham and pretense. After livinga hermit life at one of the smallest and most obscure of the royalestates for several years, he vanished utterly. That was fifteen yearsago. "

"Yes; he was mad--quite mad, " blurted the Baron. 

"That was the common impression. He took his oldest son and went intoexile. Conjectures as to his whereabouts have filled the newspaperssporadically ever since. He has been reported as appearing in the SouthSea Islands, in India, in Australia, in various parts of this country. Intruth he came directly to America and established himself as a farmer inwestern Canada. His son was killed in an accident; the Archduke diedwithin the year. "

Judge Claiborne bent forward in his chair as Armitage paused. 

"What proof have you of this story, Mr. Armitage?"

"I am prepared for such a question, gentlemen. His identity I mayestablish by various documents which he gave me for the purpose. Forgreater security I locked them in a safety box of the Bronx Loan andTrust Company in New York. To guard against accidents I named you jointlywith myself as entitled to the contents of that box. Here is the key. "

As he placed the slim bit of steel on the table and stepped back to hisold position on the hearth, they saw how white he was, and that his handshook, and Dick begged him to sit down. 

"Yes; will you not be seated, Monsieur?" said the Baron kindly. 

"No; I shall have finished in a moment. The Archduke gave those documentsto me, and with them a paper that will explain much in the life of thatunhappy gentleman. It contains a disclosure that might in certainemergencies be of very great value. I beg of you, believe that he was nota fool, and not a madman. He sought exile for reasons--for the reasonthat his son Francis, who has been plotting the murder of the newEmperor-king, _is not his son_!"

"What!" roared the Baron. 

"It is as I have said. The faithlessness of his wife, and not madness, drove him into exile. He intrusted that paper to me and swore me to carryit to Vienna if Francis ever got too near the throne. It is certified byhalf a dozen officials authorized to administer oaths in Canada, thoughthey, of course, never knew the contents of the paper to which they sworehim. He even carried it to New York and swore to it there before theconsul-general of Austria-Hungary in that city. There was a certain grimhumor in him; he said he wished to have the affidavit bear the seal ofhis own country, and the consul-general assumed that it was a document ofmere commercial significance. "

The Baron looked at the key; he touched the silver box; his hand restedfor a moment on the sword. 

"It is a marvelous story--it is wonderful! Can it be true--can it betrue?" murmured the Ambassador. 

"The documents will be the best evidence. We can settle the matter intwenty-four hours, " said Judge Claiborne. 

"You will pardon me for seeming incredulous, sir, " said the Baron, "butit is all so extraordinary. And these men, these prisoners--"

"They have pursued me under the impression that I am Frederick Augustus. Oddly enough, I, too, am Frederick Augustus, " and Armitage smiled. "I waswithin a few months of his age, and I had a little brush with Chauvenetand Durand in Geneva in which they captured my cigarette case--it hadbelonged to Frederick, and the Archduke gave it to me--and my troublesbegan. The Emperor-king was old and ill; the disorders in Hungary were tocloak the assassination of his successor; then the Archduke Francis, Karl's reputed son, was to be installed upon the throne. "

"Yes; there has been a conspiracy; I--"

"And there have been conspirators! Two of them are safely behind thatdoor; and, somewhat through my efforts, their chief, Winkelried, shouldnow be under arrest in Vienna. I have had reasons, besides my pledge toArchduke Karl, for taking an active part in these affairs. A year ago Igave Karl's repudiation of his second son to Count Ferdinand vonStroebel, the prime minister. The statement was stolen from him for theWinkelried conspirators by these men we now have locked up in thishouse. "

The Ambassador's eyes blazed with excitement as these statements fell oneby one from Armitage's lips; but Armitage went on:

"I trust that my plan for handling these men will meet with yourapproval. They have chartered the _George W. Custis_, a fruit-carryingsteamer lying at Morgan's wharf in Baltimore, in which they expectedto make off after they had finished with me. At one time they had someidea of kidnapping me; and it isn't my fault they failed at that game. But I leave it to you, gentlemen, to deal with them. I will suggest, however, that the presence just now in the West Indies, of the cruiser_Sophia Margaret_, flying the flag of Austria-Hungary, may besuggestive. "

He smiled at the quick glance that passed between the Ambassador andJudge Claiborne. 

Then Baron von Marhof blurted out the question that was uppermost in theminds of all. 

"Who are _you_, John Armitage?"

And Armitage answered, quite simply and in the quiet tone that he hadused throughout:

"I am Frederick Augustus von Stroebel, the son of your sister andof the Count Ferdinand von Stroebel. The Archduke's son and I wereschool-fellows and playmates; you remember as well as I my father's placenear the royal lands. The Archduke talked much of democracy and the NewWorld, and used to joke about the divine right of kings. Let me make mystory short--I found out their plan of flight and slipped away with them. It was believed that I had been carried away by gipsies. "

"Yes, that is true; it is all true! And you never saw your father--younever went to him?"

"I was only thirteen when I ran away with Karl. When I appeared before myfather in Paris last year he would have sent me away in anger, if it hadnot been that I knew matters of importance to Austria--Austria, alwaysAustria!"

"Yes; that was quite like him, " said the Ambassador. "He served hiscountry with a passionate devotion. He hated America--he distrusted thewhole democratic idea. It was that which pointed his anger againstyou--that you should have chosen to live here. "

"Then when I saw him at Geneva--that last interview--he told me thatKarl's statement had been stolen, and he had his spies abroad looking forthe thieves. He was very bitter against me. It was only a few hoursbefore he was killed, as a part of the Winkelried conspiracy. He hadgiven his life for Austria. He told me never to see him again--never toclaim my own name until I had done something for Austria. And I went toVienna and knelt in the crowd at his funeral, and no one knew me, and ithurt me, oh, it hurt me to know that he had grieved for me; that he hadwanted a son to carry on his own work, while I had grown away from thewhole idea of such labor as his. And now--"

He faltered, his hoarse voice broke with stress of feeling, and hispallor deepened. 

"It was not my fault--it was really not my fault! I did the best I could, and, by God, I've got them in the room there where they can't do anyharm!--and Dick Claiborne, you are the finest fellow in the world, andthe squarest and bravest, and I want to take your hand before I go tosleep; for I'm sick--yes, I'm sick--and sleepy--and you'd better hauldown that flag over the door--it's treason, I tell you!--and if you seeShirley, tell her I'm John Armitage--tell her I'm John Armitage, JohnArm--"

The room and its figures rushed before his eyes, and as he tried to standerect his knees crumpled under him, and before they could reach him hesank to the floor with a moan. As they crowded about he stirred slightly, sighed deeply, and lay perfectly still. 

CHAPTER XXVII

DECENT BURIAL

To-morrow? 'Tis not ours to know That we again shall see the flowers. To-morrow is the gods'--but, oh! To day is ours. 

--C. E. Merrill, Jr. 

Claiborne called Oscar through the soft dusk of the April evening. Thephalanx of stars marched augustly across the heavens. Claiborne liftedhis face gratefully to the cool night breeze, for he was worn with thestress and anxiety of the day, and there remained much to do. Thebungalow had been speedily transformed into a hospital. One nurse, borrowed from a convalescent patient at the Springs, was to be reinforcedby another summoned by wire from Washington. The Ambassador's demandto be allowed to remove Armitage to his own house at the Springs had beenpromptly rejected by the surgeon. A fever had hold of John Armitage, whowas ill enough without the wound in his shoulder, and the surgeon movedhis traps to the bungalow and took charge of the case. Oscar had broughtClaiborne's bag, and all was now in readiness for the night. 

Oscar's erect figure at salute and his respectful voice brought Claibornedown from the stars. 

"We can get rid of the prisoners to-night--yes?"

"At midnight two secret service men will be here from Washington totravel with them to Baltimore to their boat. The Baron and my fatherarranged it over the telephone from the Springs. The prisoners understandthat they are in serious trouble, and have agreed to go quietly. Thegovernment agents are discreet men. You brought up the buckboard?"

"But the men should be hanged--for they shot our captain, and he maydie. "

The little man spoke with sad cadence. A pathos in his erect, sturdyfigure, his lowered tone as he referred to Armitage, touched Claiborne. 

"He will get well, Oscar. Everything will seem brighter to-morrow. Youhad better sleep until it is time to drive to the train. "

Oscar stepped nearer and his voice sank to a whisper. 

"I have not forgotten the tall man who died; it is not well for him to gounburied. You are not a Catholic--no?"

"You need not tell me how--or anything about it--but you are sure he isquite dead?"

"He is dead; he was a bad man, and died very terribly, " said Oscar, andhe took off his hat and drew his sleeve across his forehead. "I will tellyou just how it was. When my horse took the wall and got their bulletsand tumbled down dead, the big man they called Zmai saw how it was, thatwe were all coming over after them, and ran. He kept running through thebrambles and over the stones, and I thought he would soon turn and wemight have a fight, but he did not stop; and I could not let him getaway. It was our captain who said, 'We must take them prisoners, ' was itnot so?"

"Yes; that was Mr. Armitage's wish. "

"Then I saw that we were going toward the bridge, the one they do notuse, there at the deep ravine. I had crossed it once and knew that it wasweak and shaky, and I slacked up and watched him. He kept on, and justbefore he came to it, when I was very close to him, for he was a slowrunner--yes? being so big and clumsy, he turned and shot at me with hisrevolver, but he was in a hurry and missed; but he ran on. His feetstruck the planks of the bridge with a great jar and creaking, but hekept running and stumbled and fell once with a mad clatter of the planks. He was a coward with a heart of water, and would not stop when I called, and come back for a little fight. The wires of the bridge hummed andthe bridge swung and creaked. When he was almost midway of the bridge thebig wires that held it began to shriek out of the old posts that heldthem--though I had not touched them--and it seemed many years that passedwhile the whole of it dangled in the air like a bird-nest in a storm; andthe creek down below laughed at that big coward. I still heard his hoofsthumping the planks, until the bridge dropped from under him and left himfor a long second with his arms and legs flying in the air. Yes; it wasvery horrible to see. And then his great body went down, down--God! Itwas a very dreadful way for a wicked man to die. "

And Oscar brushed his hat with his sleeve and looked away at the purpleand gray ridges and their burden of stars. 

"Yes, it must have been terrible, " said Claiborne. 

"But now he can not be left to lie down there on the rocks, though he wasso wicked and died like a beast. I am a bad Catholic, but when I was aboy I used to serve mass, and it is not well for a man to lie in a wildplace where the buzzards will find him. "

"But you can not bring a priest. Great harm would be done if news of thisaffair were to get abroad. You understand that what has passed here mustnever be known by the outside world. My father and Baron von Marhof havecounseled that, and you may be sure there are reasons why these thingsmust be kept quiet, or they would seek the law's aid at once. "

"Yes; I have been a soldier; but after this little war I shall bury thedead. In an hour I shall be back to drive the buckboard to Lamarstation. "

Claiborne looked at his watch. 

"I will go with you, " he said. 

They started through the wood toward the Port of Missing Men; andtogether they found rough niches in the side of the gap, down which theymade their way toilsomely to the boulder-lined stream that laughed andtumbled foamily at the bottom of the defile. They found the wreckage ofthe slender bridge, broken to fragments where the planking had struck therocks. It was very quiet in the mountain cleft, and the stars seemedwithdrawn to newer and deeper arches of heaven as they sought in thedebris for the Servian. They kindled a fire of twigs to give light fortheir search, and soon found the great body lying quite at the edge ofthe torrent, with arms flung out as though to ward off a blow. The facetwisted with terror and the small evil eyes, glassed in death, were notgood to see. 

"He was a wicked man, and died in sin. I will dig a grave for him bythese bushes. "

When the work was quite done, Oscar took off his hat and knelt down bythe side of the strange grave and bowed his head in silence for a moment. Then he began to repeat words and phrases of prayers he had knownas a peasant boy in a forest over seas, and his voice rose to a kind ofchant. Such petitions of the Litany of the Saints as he could recall heuttered, his voice rising mournfully among the rocks. 

_"From all evil; from all sin; from Thy wrath; from sudden and unprovideddeath, O Lord, deliver us!"_

Then he was silent, though in the wavering flame of the fire Claibornesaw that his lips still muttered prayers for the Servian's soul. Whenagain his words grew audible he was saying:

_"--That Thou wouldst not deliver it into the hand of the enemy, norforget it unto the end, out wouldst command it to be received by the HolyAngels, and conducted to paradise, its true country; that, as in Thee ithath hoped and believed, it may not suffer the pains of hell, but maytake possession of eternal joys. "_

He made the sign of the cross, rose, brushed the dirt from his knees andput on his hat. 

"He was a coward and died an ugly death, but I am glad I did not killhim. "

"Yes, we were spared murder, " said Claiborne; and when they had troddenout the fire and scattered the embers into the stream, they climbed thesteep side of the gap and turned toward the bungalow. Oscar trudgedsilently at Claiborne's side, and neither spoke. Both were worn to thepoint of exhaustion by the events of the long day; the stubborn patienceand fidelity of the little man touched a chord in Claiborne. Almostunconsciously he threw his arm across Oscar's shoulders and walked thusbeside him as they traversed the battle-field of the morning. 

"You knew Mr. Armitage when he was a boy?" asked Claiborne. 

"Yes; in the Austrian forest, on his father's place--the Count Ferdinandvon Stroebel. The young captain's mother died when he was a child; hisfather was the great statesman, and did much for the Schomburgs andAustria; but it did not aid his disposition--no?"

The secret service men had come by way of the Springs, and were waitingat the bungalow to report to Claiborne. They handed him a sealed packetof instructions from the Secretary of War. The deportation of Chauvenetand Durand was to be effected at once under Claiborne's direction, and hesent Oscar to the stables for the buckboard and sat down on the verandato discuss the trip to Baltimore with the two secret agents. They were togather up the personal effects of the conspirators at the tavern on thedrive to Lamar. The rooms occupied by Chauvenet at Washington had alreadybeen ransacked and correspondence and memoranda of a startling characterseized. Chauvenet was known to be a professional blackmailer and plotterof political mischief, and the embassy of Austria-Hungary had identifiedDurand as an ex-convict who had only lately been implicated in thelaunching of a dangerous issue of forged bonds in Paris. Claiborne hadbeen carefully coached by his father, and he answered the questions ofthe officers readily:

"If these men give you any trouble, put them under arrest in the nearestjail. We can bring them back here for attempted murder, if nothing worse;and these mountain juries will see that they're put away for a long time. You will accompany them on board the _George W. Custis_, and stay withthem until you reach Cape Charles. A lighthouse tender will follow thesteamer down Chesapeake Bay and take you off. If these gentlemen do notgive the proper orders to the captain of the steamer, you will put themall under arrest and signal the tender. "

Chauvenet and Durand had been brought out and placed in the buckboard, and these orders were intended for their ears. 

"We will waive our right to a writ of _habeas corpus_, " remarked Durandcheerfully, as Claiborne flashed a lantern over them. "Dearest Jules, weshall not forget Monsieur Claiborne's courteous treatment of us. "

"Shut up!" snapped Chauvenet. 

"You will both of you do well to hold your tongues, " remarked Claibornedryly. "One of these officers understands French, and I assure you theycan not be bought or frightened. If you try to bolt, they will certainlyshoot you. If you make a row about going on board your boat at Baltimore, remember they are government agents, with ample authority for anyemergency, and that Baron von Marhof has the American State Department athis back. "

"You are wonderful, Captain Claiborne, " drawled Durand. 

"There is no trap in this? You give us the freedom of the sea?" demandedChauvenet. 

"I gave you the option of a Virginia prison for conspiracy to murder, ora run for your life in your own boat beyond the Capes. You have chosenthe second alternative; if you care to change your decision--"

Oscar gathered up the reins and waited for the word. Claiborne held hiswatch to the lantern. 

"We must not miss our train, my dear Jules!" said Durand. 

"Bah, Claiborne! this is ungenerous of you. You know well enough this isan unlawful proceeding--kidnapping us this way--without opportunity forcounsel. "

"And without benefit of clergy, " laughed Claiborne. "Is it a dash for thesea, or the nearest county jail? If you want to tackle the Americancourts, we have nothing to venture. The Winkelried crowd are safe behindthe bars in Vienna, and publicity can do us no harm. "

"Drive on!" ejaculated Chauvenet. 

As the buckboard started, Baron von Marhof and Judge Claiborne rode up, and watched the departure from their saddles. 

"That's the end of one chapter, " remarked Judge Claiborne. 

"They're glad enough to go, " said Dick. "What's the latest word fromVienna?"

"The conspirators were taken quietly; about one hundred arrests have beenmade in all, and the Hungarian uprising has played out utterly--thanks toMr. John Armitage, " and the Baron sighed and turned toward the bungalow. 

When the two diplomats rode home half an hour later, it was with theassurance that Armitage's condition was satisfactory. 

"He is a hardy plant, " said the surgeon, "and will pull through. "

CHAPTER XXVIII

JOHN ARMITAGE

If so be, you can discover a mode of life more desirable than the being aking, for those who shall be kings; then the true Ideal of the State willbecome a possibility; but not otherwise. --Marius the Epicurean. 

June roses overflowed the veranda rail of Baron von Marhof's cottage atStorm Springs. The Ambassador and his friend and counsel, Judge HiltonClaiborne, sat in a cool corner with a wicker table between them. Therepresentative of Austria-Hungary shook his glass with an impatience thattinkled the ice cheerily. 

"He's as obstinate as a mule!"

Judge Claiborne laughed at the Baron's vehemence. 

"He comes by it honestly. I can imagine his father doing the same thingunder similar circumstances. "

"What! This rot about democracy! This light tossing away of an honesttitle, a respectable fortune! My dear sir, there is such a thing ascarrying democracy too far!"

"I suppose there is; but he's of age; he's a grown man. I don't see whatyou're going to do about it. "

"Neither do I! But think what he's putting aside. The boy's clever--hehas courage and brains, as we know; he could have position--the homegovernment is under immense obligations to him. A word from me to Viennaand his services to the crown would be acknowledged in the most generousfashion. And with his father's memory and reputation behind him--"

"But the idea of reward doesn't appeal to him. We canvassed that lastnight. "

"There's one thing I haven't dared to ask him: to take his own name--tobecome Frederick Augustus von Stroebel, even if he doesn't want hisfather's money or the title. Quite likely he will refuse that, too. "

"It is possible. Most things seem possible with Armitage. "

"It's simply providential that he hasn't become a citizen of yourrepublic. That would have been the last straw!"

They rose as Armitage called to them from a French window near by. 

"Good afternoon, gentlemen! When two diplomats get their heads togetheron a summer afternoon, the universe is in danger. "

He came toward them hatless, but trailing a stick that had been the propof his later convalescence. His blue serge coat, a negligée shirt andduck trousers had been drawn a few days before from the trunks brought byOscar from the bungalow. He was clean-shaven for the first time since hisillness, and the two men looked at him with a new interest. His deepenedtemples and lean cheeks and hands told their story; but his step wasregaining its old assurance, and his eyes were clear and bright. Hethrust the little stick under his arm and stood erect, gazing at the neargardens and then at the hills. The wind tumbled his brown newly-trimmedhair, and caught the loose ends of his scarf and whipped them free. 

"Sit down. We were just talking of you. You are getting so much strongerevery day that we can't be sure of you long, " said the Baron. 

"You have spoiled me, --I am not at all anxious to venture back into theworld. These Virginia gardens are a dream world, where nothing is reallyquite true. "

"Something must be done about your father's estate soon. It is yours, waiting and ready. "

The Baron bent toward the young man anxiously. 

Armitage shook his head slowly, and clasped the stick with both hands andheld it across his knees. 

"No, --no! Please let us not talk of that any more. I could not feelcomfortable about it. I have kept my pledge to do something for hiscountry--something that we may hope pleases him if he knows. "

The three were silent for a moment. A breeze, sweet with pine-scent ofthe hills, swept the valley, taking tribute of the gardens as it passed. The Baron was afraid to venture his last request. 

"But the name--the honored name of the greatest statesman Austria hasknown--a name that will endure with the greatest names of Europe--surelyyou can at least accept that. "

The Ambassador's tone was as gravely importunate as though he werebegging the cession of a city from a harsh conqueror. Armitage rose andwalked the length of the veranda. He had not seen Shirley since thatmorning when the earth had slipped from under his feet at the bungalow. The Claibornes had been back and forth often between Washington and StormSprings. The Judge had just been appointed a member of the Brazilianboundary commission which was to meet shortly in Berlin, and Mrs. Claiborne and Shirley were to go with him. In the Claiborne garden, beyond and below, he saw a flash of white here and there among the darkgreen hedges. He paused, leaned against a pillar, and waited untilShirley crossed one of the walks and passed slowly on, intent upon therose trees; and he saw--or thought he saw--the sun searching out the goldin her brown hair. She was hatless. Her white gown emphasized thestraight line of her figure. She paused to ponder some new arrangement ofa line of hydrangeas, and he caught a glimpse of her against a pillar ofcrimson ramblers. Then he went back to the Baron. 

"How much of our row in the hills got into the newspapers?" he asked, sitting down. 

"Nothing, --absolutely nothing. The presence of the _Sophia Margaret_ offthe capes caused inquiries to be made at the embassy, and severalcorrespondents came down here to interview me. Then the revenue officersmade some raids in the hills opportunely and created a local diversion. You were hurt while cleaning your gun, --please do not forget that!--andyou are a friend of my family, --a very eccentric character, who haschosen to live in the wilderness. "

The Judge and Armitage laughed at these explanations, though there was alittle constraint upon them all. The Baron's question was stillunanswered. 

"You ceased to be of particular interest some time ago. While you weresick the fraudulent Von Kissel was arrested in Australia, and I believesome of the newspapers apologized to you handsomely. "

"That was very generous of them;" and Armitage shifted his positionslightly. A white skirt had flashed again in the Claiborne garden and hewas trying to follow it. At the same time there were questions hewished to ask and have answered. The Baroness von Marhof had already goneto Newport; the Baron lingered merely out of good feeling towardArmitage--for it was as Armitage that he was still known to the peopleof Storm Springs, to the doctor and nurses who tended him. 

"The news from Vienna seems tranquil enough, " remarked Armitage. He hadnot yet answered the Baron's question, and the old gentleman grewrestless at the delay. "I read in the _Neue Freie Presse_ a while agothat Charles Louis is showing an unexpected capacity for affairs. It isreported, too, that an heir is in prospect. The Winkelried conspiracy isonly a bad dream and we may safely turn to other affairs. "

"Yes; but the margin by which we escaped is too narrow to contemplate. "

"We have a saying that a miss is as good as a mile, " remarked JudgeClaiborne. "We have never told Mr. Armitage that we found the papers inthe safety box at New York to be as he described them. "

"They are dangerous. We have hesitated as to whether there was more riskin destroying them than in preserving them, " said the Baron. 

Armitage shrugged his shoulders and laughed. 

"They are out of my hands. I positively decline to accept their furthercustody. "

A messenger appeared with a telegram which the Baron opened and read. 

"It's from the commander of the _Sophia Margaret_, who is just leavingRio Janeiro for Trieste, and reports his prisoners safe and in goodhealth. "

"It was a happy thought to have him continue his cruise to the Braziliancoast before returning homeward. By the time he delivers those twoscoundrels to his government their fellow conspirators will haveforgotten they ever lived. But"--and Judge Claiborne shrugged hisshoulders and smiled disingenuously--"as a lawyer I deplore such methods. Think what a stir would be made in this country if it were known that twomen had been kidnapped in the sovereign state of Virginia and taken outto sea under convoy of ships carrying our flag for transfer to anAustrian battle-ship! That's what we get for being a free republic thatcan not countenance the extradition of a foreign citizen for a politicaloffense. "

Armitage was not listening. Questions of international law and comity hadno interest for him whatever. The valley breeze, the glory of the blueVirginia sky, the far-stretching lines of hills that caught and led theeye like sea billows; the dark green of shrubbery, the slope of uplandmeadows, and that elusive, vanishing gleam of white, --before such thingsas these the splendor of empire and the might of armies were unworthy ofman's desire. 

The Baron's next words broke harshly upon his mood. 

"The gratitude of kings is not a thing to be despised. You could go toVienna and begin where most men leave off! Strong hands are needed inAustria, --you could make yourself the younger--the great Stroebel--"

The mention of his name brought back the Baron's still unansweredquestion. He referred to it now, as he stood before them smiling. 

"I have answered all your questions but one; I shall answer that a littlelater, --if you will excuse me for just a few minutes I will go and getthe answer, --that is, gentlemen, I hope I shall be able to bring it backwith me. "

He turned and ran down the steps and strode away through the long shadowsof the garden. They heard the gate click after him as he passed into theClaiborne grounds and then they glanced at each other with such a glanceas may pass between two members of a peace commission sitting on the sameside of the table, who will not admit to each other that the latestproposition of the enemy has been in the nature of a surprise. They didnot, however, suffer themselves to watch Armitage, but diplomaticallyrefilled their glasses. 

Through the green walls went Armitage. He had not been out of the Baron'sgrounds before since he was carried thence from the bungalow; and it waspleasant to be free once more, and able to stir without a nurse at hisheels; and he swung along with his head and shoulders erect, walking withthe confident stride of a man who has no doubt whatever of his immediateaim. 

At the pergola he paused to reconnoiter, finding on the bench certain_vestigia_ that interested him deeply, --a pink parasol, a contrivance ofstraw, lace and pink roses that seemed to be a hat, and a June magazine. He jumped upon the bench where once he had sat, an exile, a refugee, aperson discussed in disagreeable terms by the newspapers, and studied thelandscape. Then he went on up the gradual slope of the meadow, until hecame to the pasture wall. It was under the trees beneath which Oscar hadwaited for Zmai that he found her. 

"They told me you wouldn't dare venture out for a week, " she said, advancing toward him and giving him her hand. 

"That was what they told me, " he said, laughing; "but I escaped from mykeepers. "

"You will undoubtedly take cold, --without your hat!"

"Yes; I shall undoubtedly have pneumonia from exposure to the Virginiasunshine. I take my chances. "

"You may sit on the wall for three minutes; then you must go back. I cannot be responsible for the life of a wounded hero. "

"Please!" He held up his hand. "That's what I came to talk to you about. "

"About being a hero? You have taken an unfair advantage. I was going tosend for the latest designs in laurel wreaths to-morrow. "

She sat down beside him on the wall. The sheep were a grayish bluragainst the green. A little negro boy was shepherding them, and theyscampered before him toward the farther end of the pasture. The faint andvanishing tinkle of a bell, and the boy's whistle, gave emphasis to thecountry-quiet of the late afternoon. They spoke rapidly and impersonallyof his adventures in the hills and of his illness. When they looked ateach other it was with swift laughing glances. Her cheeks and handswere-already brown, --an honest brown won from May and June in the openfield, --not that blistered, peeling scarlet that marks the insinceredevotee of racket, driver and oar, who jumps into the game in August, butthe real brown conferred by the dear mother of us all upon the faithfulwho go forth to meet her in April. Her hands interested him particularly. They were long, slender and supple; and she had a pretty way of foldingthem upon her knees that charmed him. 

"I didn't know, Miss Claiborne, that I was going to lose my mind thatmorning at the bungalow or I should have asked your brother to conductyou to the conservatory while I fainted. From what they told me I musthave been a little light-headed for a day or two. If I had been in myright mind I shouldn't have let Captain Dick mix up in my business andrun the risk of getting killed in a nasty little row. Dear old Dick! Imade a mess of that whole business; I ought to have telegraphed for theStorm Springs constable in the beginning, and told him that if he wasn'tcareful the noble house of Schomburg would totter and fall. "

"Yes; and just imagine the effect on our constable of telling him thatthe fate of an empire lay in his hands. It's hard enough to get a manarrested who beats his horse. But you must go back to your keepers. Youhaven't your hat--"

"Neither have you; you shan't outdo me in recklessness. I inspected yourhat as I came through the pergola. I liked it immensely; I came nearseizing it as spoil of war, --the loot of the pergola!"

"There would be cause for another war; I have rarely liked any hat somuch. But the Baron will be after you in a moment. I can't be responsiblefor you. "

"The Baron annoys me. He has given me a lot of worry. And that's what Ihave come to ask you about. "

"Then I should say that you oughtn't to quarrel with a dear old man likeBaron von Marhof. Besides, he's your uncle. "

"No! No! I don't want him to be my uncle! I don't need any uncle!"

He glanced about with an anxiety that made her laugh. 

"I understand perfectly! My father told me that the events of April inthese hills were not to be mentioned. But don't worry; the sheep won'ttell--and I won't. "

He was silent for a moment as he thought out the words of what he wishedto say to her. The sun was dipping down into the hills; the mellow airwas still; the voice of a negro singing as he crossed a distant fieldstole sweetly upon them. 

"Shirley!"

He touched her hand. 

"Shirley!" and his fingers closed upon hers. 

"I love you, Shirley! From those days when I saw you in Paris, --beforethe great Gettysburg battle picture, I loved you. You had felt the cry ofthe Old World, the story that is in its battle-fields, its beauty andromance, just as I had felt the call of this new and more wonderfulworld. I understood--I knew what was in your heart; I knew what thosethings meant to you;--but I had put them aside; I had chosen another lifefor myself. And the poor life that you saved, that is yours if you willtake it. I have told your father and Baron von Marhof that I would nottake the fortune my father left me; I would not go back there to bethanked or to get a ribbon to wear in my coat. But my name, the name Ibore as a boy and disgraced in my father's eyes, --his name that he madefamous throughout the world, the name I cast aside with my youth, thename I flung away in anger, --they wish me to take that. "

She withdrew her hand and rose and looked away toward the western hills. 

"The greatest romance in the world is here, Shirley. I have dreamed itall over, --in the Canadian woods, on the Montana ranch as I watched theherd at night. My father spent his life keeping a king upon his throne;but I believe there are higher things and finer things than steadying ashaking throne or being a king. And the name that has meant nothing to meexcept dominion and power, --it can serve no purpose for me to take itnow. I learned much from the poor Archduke; he taught me to hate the shamand shame of the life he had fled from. My father was the last greatdefender of the divine right of kings; but I believe in the divine rightof men. And the dome of the Capitol in Washington does not mean to meforce or hatred or power, but faith and hope and man's right to live anddo and be whatever he can make himself. I will not go back or take theold name unless, --unless you tell me I must, Shirley!"

There was an instant in which they both faced the westering sun. Helooked down suddenly and the deep feeling in his heart went to his lips. 

"It was that way, --you were just like that when I saw you first, Shirley, with the dreams in your eyes. "

He caught her hand and kissed it, --bending very low indeed. Suddenly, ashe stood erect, her arms were about his neck and her cheek with itswarmth and color lay against his face. 

"I do not know, "--and he scarcely heard the whispered words, --"I do notknow Frederick Augustus von Stroebel, --but I love--John Armitage, " shesaid. 

Then back across the meadow, through the rose-aisled ways of the quietgarden, they went hand in hand together and answered the Baron'squestion.